


My Favourite Mistake

by silasfinch



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Doctors & Physicians, Ethical Dilemmas, F/F, Gen, Human Experimentation, Soft Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:55:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 29,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22758136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silasfinch/pseuds/silasfinch
Summary: Oksana Astankova is a mistake in a long line of perfectionA genetic experiment with a host of problems.Eve Polastri is a scientist on the fringes on the experiment and faces moral quandaries.
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 39
Kudos: 143





	1. Astankova Anomoly

_"Learn from me, if not by my precepts, at least by my example, how dangerous is the acquirement of knowledge, and how much happier that man is who believes his native town to be his world, than he who aspires to become greater than his nature will allow."_

_Frankenstein - Mary Shelly_

_And did you know when you go, it's the perfect ending_

_To the bad day, I'd gotten used to spending_

_When you go, all I know is you're my favorite mistake_

_You're my favorite mistake_

_My Favourite Mistake - Sheryl Crow_

Oksana Astankova is a complicated mistake in a long line of perfection. 

Her name echoes in the halls of any Enhanced Genetics Facility. It still surprises Eve Polastri that her colleagues are struggling to comprehend a simple reality of science. No matter how careful the method, limitless the resources or pure the ideals, human physiology and mechanics are still unknowable quantities in a small portion of the population. The fact human epigenetics are almost routinely the subject of manipulation is beside the point, as much as some scientists believe themselves infallible nothing is further from the truth, especially in this field. 

As with most scientific dilemmas, the ideals and belief systems are pure. The human populations are under increasing pressure from both climate extremes and exploding rates of disease and decay in younger ages. Genetics is becoming one of the faster-growing fields and out of the intention to treat diseases genetically came the idea to 'improve' immune and climate function. The human body doesn't hold up well against permanent droughts and floods conditions. If there was a way to enhance capacity than all the better. 

Naturally, there were plenty of moral and philosophical objections to designing humans. However, scientific communication makes almost as many advances as science. There is a careful publicity strategy around the potential and limits of the undertaking. Most of the foundation processes begin in individual countries before the foundation of a global hub in the UK. The home of Gregor Mendel and his fake pea experiments is surprisingly resistant to the whims and vagaries of recession. 

The first generation of 'Enhanced Humans' was entering young adulthood and facing the real test of all that engineering, in the form of trips to hostile parts of the planet and turning their blood and immunity against the most complex problems. Theoretically, this could be done in secret away from the prying eyes, but it becomes impractical when many resources, countries and people are in play. 

Eve Polastri never dreams her interest in genetics and potential treatments will lead her to this area of science even in a small way. She still thinks this is one of the best times to be part of the plan, even if its the worst time to be a member of the human race. 

_"I can't stand watching the 'Dying Planet and Population’ stuff on the news, and you are at the front lines," Elena says admiringly._

_"As nothing but an extremely obscure footnote whose contribution about 12 people on the face of the planet will know about, much less read." Eve offers a standard._

Niko cannot understand if her role is no minor and not that different from a post-doc research position why such a programme and the timing is still costing them their marriage, one cancelled date at a time. 

***

The government isn't creating mutants in the proverbial basement. 

For decades secret experiments were the prevailing belief when this technology (manipulating human genes and potential) become a feature of the everyday medical landscape. The initial tinkering occurs well outside any public or oversight security, but the undercover approach was only a temporary solution. 

The urgency of the problem forces social media and citizen scientists make some level of accountability essential to continue. Britain was still a functional democracy and even the most necessary political realities is that this a collective crisis. There is a difference between conducting activities in public and revealing all the salient details. 

When she first joins the company, she signs enough NDAs to kill a tree or two and Eve still has nightmares about going head to head with the Human Resources Department. There is a public-facing branch of the department and a private one. This fact extends to most employees have readily available employment profiles, complete with lab websites. The internal work stays far out of sight. 

Eve Polastri is on the fringes of this project and ordinarily wouldn't have anything to do with the Enhanced Subjects such as Oksana, Codename Villanelle. Her security level isn't even middle of the back and Jess is constantly hassling her to aim higher and seek a management position. 

She has a doctorate in a relevant field and multiple degrees beside her main one. However, such a list is exceptional and is practically a requirement to get through the door without scorn. Her generic job description is 'data analyst', and her daily roles include reviewing and finding discrepancies in vast amounts of data. The work is far from glamorous and won't make it onto the glossy promotional material but solving the problems is satisfying. 

"You know there are herds of undergrads and underlings to do the data entry for you, right?" Jess says from her desk next to Eve. 

"For the 27th time this month Jess I _like_ the process of entering my data, it's not like we cross tabulate broccoli vs carrots at Sansbury. There are plenty of things that I manage to delegate. 

***

Eve meets Oksana purely by chance and a mutual love of Thai Food. 

"Can I share your table?" 

Eve asks the question almost absentmindedly; her favourite street food vendor is humming with the usual lunchtime trade. Samual never puts out enough tables but today is particularly dire. She only has an hour for lunch (while the latest data finishes sequencing) and can't handle eating standing on the street corner. This place is across the road from the research complex, so it is a regular for employees, but everybody is huddling in specific groupings, the high school for grown-ups.

The exceptional is one table in the far corner. 

"Do you know who I am?"

There isn't a trace of the arrogance that typically accompanies that statement. The speaker looks genuinely cautious and puts her chopsticks down carefully before turning to face Eve. Her eyes are oddly sharp but distant at the same time. 

"You are Oksana right, from the Russian Facility, a woman currently in possession of one of the few empty tables?" Eve points out, moving to jiggle her tray as if to prove the point. 

"Surely you have heard all the rumours about me and how I am messing up everybody's precious data, simply by breathing?" Oksana presses, while moving plates aside almost absently. 

"As somebody who literally maps your genes and their potential, I know for sure that none of these conditions is contagious and I only have an hour for lunch."

"Who are you?" 

"Eve Polastri, Data Analyst Worker Bee." 

"Sit down Eve Polastri; we can test your theory over excellent noodles and broth." Oksana declares matter-of-factly. 

"Why haven't I seen you before? there isn't a White Coat that hasn't examined The Mistake at least once."

Oksana says the remark casually without pausing in her demolishment of another plate of food but Eve's middle-class liberal sensibilities still wince at the term. From an objective point of view, Oksana's whole life is a series of tests and failing objective measures, but something feels inherently wrong about that label. 

"There is no reason for our paths to meet. Plenty of grunt scientists keep the operation going without getting to do the important stuff. My task is reviewing the data for anomalies, not the people." Eve explains casually. 

"I would notice someone like you."

Eve blinks in surprise at the flirtatious lilt in the voice. Factors such as relationships and personal lives are somewhere on file, but there is no need from a purely scientific basis to know such things. Eve finds the admiration of this younger woman surprising but not enough to comment directly. 

"I imagine most of us start blending somewhere between month six and seven of Phase Three. If you don't notice my work, then it is a job well done." 

***

"Why aren't you asking me a million and one questions about my stamina or 'episodes'?" 

"Is there a reason that I should be doing that on my lunch break?" 

Somehow they have fallen into step walking back to the facility. Oksana insists on buying Eve lunch, and for some reason, she doesn't object. The time feels strangely amiable even though they don't say much of anything specific. Eve appreciates that the younger woman has an excellent technique with chopsticks and doesn't shy away from spice. 

"Everybody in your field is desperate to know the inner workings of my messed up sequencing; what went wrong, my refusal to cooperate is driving Carolyn and the team wild with frustration," Oksana explains with a shrug. 

"Which I am guessing is exactly why you keep them on their toes, a sense of control in this completely artificial environment?" Eve asks knowingly.

"They don't use you for the glossary promotional material about 'Humanity's New Ark,’ do they?" You sound too close to a realist. Hasn't Kenny begun his mandatory indoctrination yet?" 

"You make it sound like such form of cult.

"Or what passes for a cult in this country." Oksana agrees without looking up from her remaining food. 

"How often do they require you to come in for testing and reviewing?"

"You don't believe the rumours that I live in the basement and have a team of 24/7 monitors?" 

"No, not with the current state of both the NHS Innovation Budget and how careful the ethical considerations are." Eve points out as she fishes for her security pass. 

"Every fortnight or more often depending on what your colleagues can dream up in the meantime. They will be almost daily before the experiments in Africa."

"Then maybe we will run into each other at lunch, and I can return the offer of lunch."

***

"How did you do that?"

Eve barely resists the urge to swear at the interruption in a mixture of Koren and English. One thing she loathes above all else is stoping in the middle of a data-mining exercise. The team on her level feel precisely the same way, and it is unlikely that any of them would violate the unwritten rule. The voice is vaguely familiar, but it takes Eve a second to regain her bearings and place the woman standing before her work station. 

"Do what, Ms. Martens?" 

There is no logical reason for the overseer of the entire facility, a noted geneticist for decades, to be on this floor, much less talking to Eve. The reports this floor generates go through several layers of management before reaching Carolyn Martens. Eve is not the most diplomatic person and finds the sudden intrusion offputting. 

"Pull Oksana Astankova into such casual conversation?" Carolyn explains impatiently. 

"Were you spying on Sammy's Thai Place, Ma'am?" Eve asks with no small amount of trepidation. 

"Please, you were exchanging life stories in the main lobby of the building. We don't need to waste such resources."

"We were talking about food, mainly."

"The details don't matter; she demonstrates more prosocial behaviours with you in five minutes than the entire team in months of work. We need to capitalise on this."

"Did you ever think that freaking out over a single interaction is part of the reasons these efforts go badly? As a comparative layman in the room." Eve blurts without thinking about the consequences. 

"This is both exceptional times and people, Eve, Oksana Astankova is not experiencing mistreatment in any way. Our reviews on such things are stringent even in Russia and the Eastern Block."

***

"How do you feel about a promotion?"

Eve doesn't feel confident to answer the question honestly. Carolyn Martens’ excitement over such a simple interaction is troublesome. Oksana may have unique genetics, but she isn't an alien being attempting First Contact or something. Sharing a love of Thai food with somebody shouldn't be a reason for such a celebration, especially when everybody is in the building was practically mainlining the stuff. 

"I am in the middle of a complex review ma'am; I would prefer to see the project complete." 

"Fear not, Dr. Polastri, I will not be taking you away from your beloved numbers. Consider this opportunity an extension of your role." 

On an intellectual level Eve knows she needs to leap at the opportunity to impress the boss or at least ingratiate herself. Niko and her family were always complaining that she makes more enemies than friends. The truth is her ambitions lie in understanding the puzzle and making sense of the data. The sense of urgency outweighs the occasional boredom or the complete inability to be social. Especially when this experiment is one of the fastest Epigenetics Trials on record, and the data is continually expanding at an insane pace. The 30 years of the projects and Oksana Astankova's life are evolving for a whole host of reasons. 

"You want me to talk to her while preforming her intakes, get a sense of her as a person and not the Boogieman and cautionary tale?" Eve asks cautiously, absently echoing Oksana's self-description. 

"Do not be so overtly crass and American in your exaggerations, Eve, we do not refer to the project participants like that, it's unbecoming." Carolyn scolds sounding scarily like a headmistress. 

"You know that technically speaking I am American right? Complete with knowing the Pledge of Allegiance and everything?" Eve can't help but point out. 

"They were foolish enough to underutilise your talents criminally. Therefore the land of your birth is reclaiming you for Queen and Country." Carolyn disagrees far too dismissively. 

"I'm sure there is a human rights violation in there somewhere but ok then."

***

To call Eve's acceptance of this new development a choice would be overstating the case quite considerably. There were choices and then there were directives from the person reasonable for your career. It was cautious of Carolyn to pretend Eve has free will at least. Somehow she manages to get Eve onto the seventh floor of the building. 

Eve still isn't entirely sure what her new role involves on a practical level; it certainly isn't something she will be writing on her CV. The overall goal seems to be 'Understanding Astankova', but nobody is entirely sure what form such an exercise takes. All the usual techniques and briberies are proving ineffective in this particular case. Eve is taking over the primary observation duties and talking to Oksana in the vague hope of continuing their connection. 

"There are doctors in fields with more experience in the particulars. Aren't you hinging a lot for one lunch?"

Carolyn stops walking and regards Eve and for a second looks something close to vulnerable, but it could be a trick of the lights. The fluorescent lights don't do anyone any favours. They are walking through restricted areas without any security checks and Eve tries to wrangle her hair into an approachable level. 

"We do not have the luxury of following a conventional path Eve; we need to know that these genetic modifications will hold in the long term, even if 50% of the pandemic and climate protections are correct. These anomalies with Astankova are too significant to risk the large scale genetic treatments. In neurodegeneration and adaptability to climate, especially. Our lives will be so much easier if she pretends a semblance of cooperation." Carolyn explains honestly 

"People in my areas are rarely at the leading or cutting edge of such things. Data Analysists tend to look at the bigger picture over the longer term. I will do my best to connect with her around my other work." 

"Everybody needs to adjust to accelerating timeframes, even data geeks." Carolyn agrees with a worn smile. 

Eve struggles to contain her nerves as they enter the 'inner sanctum' of the projects. Staff and workers don't even bother to look up from their tasks unless Carolyn stops them for a brief update. Nobody bothers to introduce Eve or orient her to the level. 

A whole new world indeed. 

***

"I'm a miracle worker according to the higher-ups, what kind of scare tactics do you use?"

Eve supposes she should preface her first official meeting with younger woman tactfully, but genuine curiosity gets the better of common sense. She wasn't lying about her length of time away from interactions with patients. Even when practising medicine or the kind on TV, her speciality was genetics in the field of oncology and genetics. There was little need to play the role of a traditional healer, but even so, the room still feels featureless and barren without a hint of welcome or warmth. 

Oksana somehow manages to look both serene and vulnerable sitting on the large examination table, all in white, with monitors, steadily recording everything from blood pressure to brain waves. Eve knows the primary purpose for every measurement, but she will be reviewing the archives all weekend long. Carolyn tends to expect every single employee to operate at her level, i.e. prodigiously fast. This project couldn't afford any delays, and there is considerable political pressure to understand the Astankova Anomaly and if this will spread to successive generations. Eve cannot escape the headlines and hypothesises. 

"All it takes is for them to see a list of my ailments to tremble — millions of Euros down the drain with every disappointment." Oksana points out with a dramatic sigh and vague gesture around the sterile room. 

"I think the scarier aspect is that some of your stats are so freakishly off the charts. The puzzle doesn't make sense when most of the cohort fall within a predictable range. Extremes tend to make scientists nervous, and beside the fact, you barely speak more than two words each visit." Eve explains absently reaching for the electronic medical chart beside the bed.

"So they pull you from the lab to start official babysitting duty?" 

Eve gives a hapless shrug, but her attention catches on the collection of bruises that litter Oksana's pale forearms, from elbow to wrist. The marks are at different stages of healing, but the newest looks fresh. Such invasions must be painful, and she can't help but reach out for a closer look, carefully avoiding the parts with the most rainbow patterns. 

"My veins are as useless as rice noodles at the moment; the testing is far behind," Oksana explains casually. 

Eve sits down on the rolling stool and reaches for the pack of latex gloves, mentally preparing a list of things she needs to bring in to help with skin recovery. Carolyn won't even blink at the expense if it makes progress happen faster. 

"There is no need for such rough treatment or least not in the long term. I worked as a phlebotomist throughout college; an impatient person should never attempt to draw blood." Eve explains almost absently as she forages through the instrument tray. 

"What are you looking for?"

"Something to help ease the bruising and discomfort. There are normally basic supplies in these rooms with how regularly you guys come in." 

"I don't need anything; Eve, I can handle pain, my scores are way better than everybody in your soft country, in the younger 'better' models." Oksana boasts almost proudly. 

Eve wants to point out that there is something wrong with a system that inflicts pain purely to test it, but this isn't the time for such debates. She focuses on breaking the ice packs and wrapping them around Oksana's thin forearm and swallow elbow joint. There is heat near the site and subtle signs of infection. 

"Well, that's not going to happen with me, Ok? The hospital sent me all the difficult patients, including the ones who severely dehydrated and the chemo kids. We are going to get those arms into much better shape." Eve insists with similar levels of professional pride. 

"You can try Old Faithful," Oksana suggests softly. 

She gingerly moves the pad and puts to a marginally bigger vein in the crook of her elbow that looks ready to collapse at a stiff breeze. If Eve didn't know better, she would think her new patient is a junkie with a significant habit. Of course, that would be a redundant point with these subjects because they are mostly incapable of getting high. 

Eve takes the arm on offer and turns it over, smiling to herself when she sees the typical network of veins on the top of the hand. Oksana has a naturally small circulatory system in the hands and arms. The constant pressure will not be helping anything, but that doesn't mean it can't happen with a little extra effort. 

"Thanks but I'm going to try my luck here first and give Old Faithful a chance to rest."

"Thank you, Eve." 


	2. Incomplete Metaphors

_You have a right to experiment with your life. You will make mistakes. And they are right too. No, I think there was too rigid a pattern. You came out of an education and are supposed to know your vocation. Your vocation is fixed, and maybe ten years later you find you are not a teacher anymore or you're not a painter anymore._

I think we have a right to change course. But society is the one that keeps demanding that we fit in and not disturb things. They would like you to fit in right away so that things work now." 

― Anaïs Nin

"Your wife works with the monsters, then?" 

My hand clenches the wine glass with far too much force. The cheap glass and cheaper wine may not hold up to the rest of the evening. Niko begs me to attend this facility party. There are so many things wrong with that one little line that I could tie this overblown English teacher into knots. However, the most fundamental fact is that our marriage is hanging on by a thread in the gale. The sad thing is apathy is the main thing stopping the divorce, and the vague hope things will improve without any actual work. As it is I can't verbally attack somebody that Niko considers a friend. The blinding fight with his best man two days before the wedding was bad enough. 

Niko shuffles uncomfortably at my side. He always struggles when defining my job to new people. The basics of the work are quite simple and relatively boring but articulating them is not in this political climate. The liberalism of teachers only extends to certain social issues or topics in my experience. I will not lie about my work, but it generally puts people off when I start talking about the implications of being a big data scientist. Only a few people like this man are obnoxious or drunk enough to push the topic further. 

"You should be careful when repeating social media talking points, Steve. There is a lot of ignorance floating out there and would be beneath your intellectual standards. I work with Human Genetics Programmes, nothing more nothing less." I insist before talking a quick drink to settle the nerves. 

"I do believe your wife is calling me an intellectual troll, Niko? I bet that makes dinner table conversations interesting." Steve says jovially. 

"Let's shift the topic to something more pleasant, shall we?" Niko is clumsy in his desperation to avoid the argument. 

I feel a pang of sympathy for my husband. Their marriage is a strain on both of us, but it is worse for him. He _wants_ a wife who will charm colleagues at work parties and carve out time for date nights and romantic holidays. I feel the loss more abstractly; my world view revolves around work, unusual shifts and colleagues who prefer data to people. There is a reason I get brilliant performance evaluations every year and can name my price for the work with Oksana. 

"Steve. We don't want to have this discussion every Christmas, let's agree that I do some contentious scientific research and avoid the 'M' word and stick to teasing Niko about the state of his Pierogi?" I offer my most charming fake smile. 

Everybody in the room is content enough with the suggestion, and Niko is almost fainting with relief at not having to apologise for his eccentric wife. There was a time when Steve and I would debate the issue for the next two hours between shots of alcohol. Theoretically, decades ease that impulse, but not by much. 

***

**Four Weeks Until First Evaluation**

"Are you hankering for the days of the Cold War and ready access to dossiers?" 

"What are you doing, Eve?" 

"You are subjecting Oksana Astankova to a battery of tests on top of the standard regime and paying me a ridiculous amount of money to feed you information that five techs already know. Oksana is different from the others and skews the data set but there are zero signs of a systemic pattern."

"Yet. Miss Astankova was successful in fooling all other evaluators for near 15 years. Our every system hinges on the Enhanced Humans behaving with absolute honesty, not deceiving 11 psychiatrists and gaming countless physiological tests. You are not directly in the Handlers Network but surely the implications haven't escaped your attention?" 

"Wasn't that the whole point of testing this technology in the first place? Before wider distribution and standard implementation globally. You are tap dancing on the line arguing against free will, Carolyn."

"You aren't in ethics class now, Eve. We need to understand Oksana before we can make any other decisions if you need to write the same set of data 100 times, then do it. Oksana will receive compensation for the extra work, in whatever currency she prefers." 

I have tremendous respect for Carolyn Martens and finds her more than a little intimidating. However, working with Oksana makes her lose a level of care for her methods. Oksana is a mystery on so many levels, but that doesn't mean she can't expect human decency. Everybody in the building is nervous about the upcoming evaluation and taking the feelings out on people lower than them in the hierarchy. I hate the amount of time I am spending with people rather than numbers. Oksana herself is easier to deal with than the politics in the workplace. 

The independent evaluation will determine Oksana's future in the country. If her numbers and scores remain stable, they will continue with the status quo. The process will repeat every three months until the scientific director is happy. If Oksana is genuinely an outlier then she will be on the fringes if her 'siblings' are in the picture, then it will shape the next scientific agenda for decades to come. In different ways, both scenarios are horrifying. I could complain that a month isn't enough time, but a dystopian reality makes slow calendars a luxury of the past. 

***

**Three Weeks Until First Evaluation**

My reputation as a miracle worker wears off somewhere between visits three and four. 

Oksana Astankova likes to make a sport out of unpredictability. Some days she will show up for testing early and with a charming smile while the next day it requires multiple security forces to find her. There is a certain level of irony in the fact Carolyn builds an entire time around her being an anomaly but somehow expects her to act in predictable ways. The delays don't bother me too much as there is always more data to review and reports to generate. The unpredictable hours do nothing for my standing as a wife. 

The weeks fall into a pattern in so much as Oksana pushes every boundary that I possess. She usually ends up completing the assigned task about two minutes before I am about to lose all patience with her and call in back up. There is a long list of tests to perform and data for me to analyze. The schedule is a feat of precise timing and planning. Naturally, the woman in question doesn't believe that the time-space continuum applies to her. 

_"Is my biology going to be misfiring at a different rate if we wait 5 minutes?"_

" _My metabolism is landmark of expensive genetic tampering, if all that can be undone with a single scoop of ice-cream, how is that I am the one with all the problems?"_

_"How likely is that that fate of the human race and our dying by degrees planet is going to hinge on me completing laps?"_

" _Did you know there is an entire fetish around Enhanced Humans, complete with novels worth of speculation about our sexual prowess, as Human Adjacent?"_

***

**Two Weeks Until First Evaluation**

Oksana Astankova represents a strange exercise in operant conditioning.

We develop a system for all the testing and assignment days. I have a series of bribes that encourage Oksana's attendance at the hospital. We have lunch at the Thai place where I ask the standard questions and give a debrief on the steps. Oksana is relatively open and doesn't balk at even the most intrusive questions. Chances are high she is lying, but sometimes the patterns of lying can be useful. Her tendency to do this is why I am on the case, the frequencies and ratios. If somebody like me, who dedicates her life to looking for predictions, can find a sequence to follow. 

Oksana's cooperation with these efforts come with unusual stipulations, mainly that we trade in the currency of information. For every answer she gives me to report, I have to answer one of her similarly-pointed remarks. While this violates all sorts of traditional ethics rules, nobody pays any attention as long as the job gets done. The Enhanced Humans programme is operating under war-like conditions, battling against a failing ecosystem and weakening populations. My extremely boring life is a fair price to pay for building a connection. 

She asks me about the work that I do and why the field of numbers fascinate me so much. I start with the cutesy story wanting to be just like my grandfather. Somehow we end up with something close to the real answer and my insecurities about anything _other_ than numbers. 

Oksana challenges me to explain why caring about other people is the pro-social thing to do rather than making people earn a place in your affection. She distinguishes between my love for my husband, a man from Poland, and the entire country of Poland. It saddens me to realise that she doesn't have any way that fits her category for inclusion. She would challenge the conventional wisdom that no man is an island. 

_"Why is my lack of feeling such a concern when feeling incapacity helps the rest of humanity. Do you honestly want me flying into jealous rages when a lover leaves?"_

***

**One Week Until First Evaluation**

Oksana is imperfect in a strange collection of ways that make no sense. 

**Physically** she still has the superhuman abilities that all the cohort display, meeting all the milestones and agility scores. She doesn't complain when they do the pain and temperature testing, even though the bruises are on display. I find the testing more ethically and psychologically demanding than Oksana, but neither of us has a choice at the moment. There is no room for negotiation about time limits and rest periods; the evaluation will happen regardless. 

**Psychologically:** Oksana Astankova is something of a mimic and adapts to whatever situation she encounters. She didn't so much fool all those medical health professionals as make it impossible for them to make a judgement call. She enjoys twisting and manipulating questions to reflect her reality or belief systems better. 

**Emotionally:** While she insists that she doesn't have emotions, I would argue that Oksana has plenty of emotion. Her emotional language isn't in any script that the rest of us can identify. The fearful whispers that she is on the unnameable spectrum is still heavy in the hallways, but I am in two minds on the notion. The data in that section of the file is too random to make any definition judgements. 

_"_ You can play, if standing there taking silent notes ever gets mind-numbingly boring?" Oksana invites without breaking her concentration. 

One of her quirks is inviting me to meet her in the most random and death-defying places. Right now she is playing a hellish version of squash as if the game was the domain of demonic Jedis. The balls are heavy, spikey and come out at impossible and dangerous angles. It seems to be one of the first tests my charge enjoys. 

****

**Evaluation Day I**

"If I didn't know better I would blame the Kremlin for playing hard and fast with a loyal subject of Mother Russia." 

I make the uncharacteristically dramatic statement while pacing around, the lab ranting at Jess rather than having a conversation. My friend owes me after hours of pregnancy complaints. Besides, she is so happy to return from maternity leave that even these conversations are engaging. Our roles aren't identical, but there is enough overlap to share a workspace and the occasional drink after work. Currently, Jess is helping me to collate my final report for the evaluation, complete with ambiguous discussions. Jess thinks I need to be more conservative in my obligations, especially in terms of career advancements. 

"Why would they want to hijack one of their most valuable assets, if they were making a statement there are far easier ways to achieve the same outcome. Plenty of the younger cohorts didn't make it to the central facilities." Jess points out. 

"The odds of these patterns being natural are vanishing small. There must be another variable in play. I can't play three-dimensional chess with only 5 pawns." I scowl at Jess for lack of a more appropriate target.

"You also can't be late for this meeting. The data speaks for itself. Nowhere in your job description does it say ‘figure the mess out.’ You are to merely report to the best of your abilities." Jess repeats for the third time that day. 

**Post Evaluation**

"Well that has about the same interest level as listening to my daughter recount my parental failings as the Therapist of the Month." 

I am never quite sure how to respond to the random factoids about Carolyn's life, especially her role as a parent. We are standing in the massive lobby of the headquarters waiting for Oksana to finish the final evaluation. There are far too many statues and pieces of abstract art for my taste. I do feel a sense of relief that my new suit fits perfectly and doesn't make me stick out like a scientific grunt. Carolyn, of course, looks serene in any environment. There a few people waiting with us as Oksana has the entire place to herself for this first evaluation. 

"We are only at Base Camp, Eve. Whatever the results here. We will need to start a new round of work and parameters for the cohort." Carolyn says bleakly as the clock ticks again. 

Oksana looks as cocky and calm as ever as she strides up to us. The riot of colours and geometric shapes should be a crime of fashion, but she makes it work. I feel a surge of protectiveness when I see how worn and pale she looks up close. Few would notice the difference, but it's my job to observe even the slightest change. 

"They didn't give me a gold star for successfully confounding the evaluators again. I am structurally sound enough not to fall apart at any moment or follow through on the threat to kill the next annoying boy band. Do we need a team handshake?" Oksana asks in a series of rapid-fire questions. 

Carolyn almost cracks a smile when she reads the official summary. 

The mystery is still ours to solve. 

***

"If you wanted to know all my intimate details all you needed to do was ask, Dr Frankenstein." 

I carefully hide my smile when Oksana walks up to her research station. It's fairly typical for the tall Russian to break protocol and visit this place whenever she pleases. The other members of her cohort and the 'Brothers' and 'Sisters' tend to avoid headquarters wherever possible. Considerable effort went in to design lives that include social lives, friends and families. Donating their bodies during working hours to for the good of humankind is part of the deal. The ethicist still argues about concepts such as privacy and dignity, but these voices are in an increasing minority. The scientific advances that emerge from these studies are too innovative for humanity as a whole. 

The standard of living is fairly high with good financial compensation, providing these young people are willing to live their lives under constant microscopes. Different countries have different interpretations of the guidelines, but most locations follow the British model. The connection reeks a bit too much of imperialism and the Glorious Empire. At least there are safety measures in place. The lack of deviation is part of the reason the Astankova Anomaly is such a concern. There hasn't been a breakdown in the system for decades and critical evaluations are on the horizons. 

"Must be hard for you to keep up that air of mystery when you live under constant observation, not that you don't manage to terrify that Straight Edge intern." I observe, not protesting when Oksana lounges on my desk. 

Oksana's overt sexuality and distinct preferences are something of an anomaly but not an interesting one. There are statistically higher rates of asexuality and other variations of that continuum than in the general population. The leading theory is that this a quirk of the process amount of interference with the endocrine system. On a fundamental level, it's difficult to develop a sense of your sexuality or adult identity when under such conditions. Eve privately believes that labelling these people with anything they don't self-identify as, it’s a distinction without a difference, best left out of medical files. 

"Don't you find it strange that your labs spend all your time studying us but freak out at the slightest interaction with the Anatomy? At least you look at me, Dr Frankenstein." Oksana comments with a shrug. 

"There are so many metaphors to choose from, why did you choose such a weak one? A) the creation of you and the siblings is a far from secret b) Billions of dollars does not represent scraps of humanity c) plenty of legal work has gone into making you a citizen with something akin to diplomatic privileges." I tick off each point with frustration. 

"Are you going to lecture me about canonical horror novels or are we going to dinner to celebrate me not ending up on the scape heap for another cycle?" Oksana changes the topic decisively, going so far as to turn off Eve's reading light. 

"Your wish is my command, but don't think food gets you out of a language lecture."


	3. Dystopia By Degrees I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Geeking out in this chapter :)

_**"I never saw a more interesting creature** : his eyes have generally an expression of wildness, and even madness; but there are moments when, if one performs an act of kindness towards him, or does him any the most trifling service, his whole countenance is lighted up, as it were, with a beam of benevolence and sweetness that I never saw equalled." _Mary Shelly’s _Frankenstein_

The critics and medical ethicists aren't wrong; Enhanced Genetics does represent a dystopian reality long feared in science fiction novels. 

However, what nobody truly counts is contending with degrees of dystopia. Of all the hundreds of models about climate change, it seems counter-intuitive to think that humanity would start to fail as a species along with the planet. Strangely, there are signs that the atmosphere is beginning to stabilise now that governments and the private sector are in almost total agreement. Of course, it's arresting in a hellish new landscape of extremes and weather catastrophes that makes forecasting an almost redundant art. However, those apocalyptic scenes of no water for 60% of the world's population are staying hypothetical. 

The best scientific minds don't know why the human race couldn't handle the changes on a mass scale. Higher rates of death and disease were always in the cards since the 1960s. However, the pressure on birth-rates and overall health took everyone by surprise. Enhanced Genetics and Genomics are the long game in a world that is needing to revaluate in decade cycles. Can you use the principles of genetic modification to inoculate successive generations against the pitfalls of the future? 

As previously stated, my job is to evaluate a mistake in the long line of perfection and predictability. 

"What would it mean to you if my investigations don't lead anywhere and you aren't such an anomaly after all?" I ask while carefully extracting another blood sample. 

"I think the extra zeros in my bank account and the freedom from this place will get me through the trauma of knowing I'm an average level of mistake, Eve." Oksana sounds so bland and sardonic we may be discussing the latest political scandal. 

"You know that I am going to have to escalating the testing and procedures to meet the latest deadlines? Their interest is not going to go away anytime soon." 

***

Oksana Astankova represents a personal degree of dystopia. 

One of the reasons my relationship with Niko will not see out the year is that he still lives in a world of moral absolutes, even though we were both born into a time of such uncertainty. I am now at the frontline of what he perceives as altering humanity. My idealistic teacher husband wants to believe that traditional medicine will save us and that creating generations of 'Superhumans' is extreme and dangerous. His family history in Poland doesn't help matters. Still, I thought there were lines I wouldn't cross. 

Developing something of a benevolent stalker would rank somewhere on the list. However, there is plenty of moral relativism in the way of the truth that Niko wants so much. It's difficult to truly say you are a stalking 'victim' by somebody who you are monitoring as a human experiment. I should report this behaviour as of sign of escalating and emotional dysregulation. At the same time, Oksana Astankova is still getting the job done, and maybe there are degrees of the Astankova Anomaly. 

I never catch sight of her directly, but I see a familiar shoe or jacket out of the corner of my eye. Her obsession with bright colours does serve as something of a giveaway. There are little piles of her favourite lolly wrappers on the balcony. The material degrades fast, but I know the bright pink. There is a hint of Villanelle perfume in the air sometimes at the strangest hours. Luckily the scent fades quickly, and Niko and I are at the opposite ends of the apartment most days now. 

Unfortunately, there is no manual for situations like this. 

***

Nobody likes noodles this much. 

For somebody who prides herself on beating the system and fooling a laundry list of top medical experts, Oksana cannot help but revisit behavioural pattern if you bother to look for it. I end up eating my weight in halfway-decent noodles because Oksana happens to run by Sammy's every ten days or so which presents an excellent opportunity to continue our lunch dates. The pressure isn't off with a successful first evaluation; the demands take a different form. From a technical perspective, Oksana borderline stalking me is a useful scientific tool. 

I can set my clock by when Oksana will run by our offices. I end up walking to Sammy's more out of habit than anything else. He does provide excellent noodles at a reasonable price. Oksana must run at least 15 miles, so she needs the fuel. Of course, she shouldn't be pushing her body to these extremes outside official exercise, but I am willing to overlook minor transgressions. It's only a theory, but Oksana seems to need to move and burn off energy at an extremely high rate and constantly stays in motion. 

"If you blow out your knee again it will put our schedule off by weeks." I warn by way of greeting. 

Oksana shrugs and doesn't look up from the pile of noodles and fast-moving chopsticks. We come here enough to have regular favourites. Oksana gestures vaguely to the bowl that is in front of my chair. I sink and wait for her to finish the first bites. There is no sense in trying to have a serious conversation until the worst of the hunger pangs are out of the way. The spice mix does smell enticing. 

***

For somebody who is ostentatious and extreme in all areas of her life, Oksana knows how to hide. 

The young woman has the looks and the temperament of Russian oligarch's daughter back when the term meant something. She cycles through high fashion and clothing brands on a whim with little regard for cost and practicality. I know this because I spent a solid week going over her spending history. How she manages to make the funds to afford such a collection is next on my list to undercover. Much like defeating the psychiatrists, her generous compensation for the testing shouldn't cover such luxury, especially when global trends are towards durable and ethically sustainable outfits. 

Still, Oksana is a relatively hidden presence at the edge of my private life. Even if the domestic unrevealing presented a boring picture to somebody with no concept of family, I would feel embarrassment at having someone observe such things. Still, it seems a small price to pay to get more of the information Carolyn and the team so desperately seek. Maybe I have lost all perspective as my father-in-law points out every Christmas or birthday.

***

Oksana makes a habit of leaving the strangest gifts imaginable. My subject lied to me, which shouldn't be as shocking, but I do feel more than a little irritated. 

Humanity hasn't evolved so much that traditional gifts aren't still appreciated. Chocolate and caffeine are still highly-prized commodities. The supply lines are much shorter, and the pricing reflects sustainable growing practices and relatively tiny production lines. The climate that produces coca is only available for brief snatches of time. A strange priority for humanity to be sure, but the sugar craving remains true. The same goes for flowers that serve no other purpose than to be beautiful. 

Oksana opts for a less obvious and slightly mortifying route. At regular intervals, I find old-fashioned data sticks around the office, in my car and home. Fortunately, Niko doesn't have the training or interest to investigate them further. For most of our marriage, our work-life remains separate. I am as ambivalent about children as he is about science. To him, the clatter is part of 'my mess.’ It's a good thing that we have such an unwritten policy because the data on these sticks would mortify him. It becomes necessary to modify my computer to take the drive. It doesn't take much work to figure out Oksana wants this away from the network. 

The sneaky little minx has been keeping private data points for most of her teenage and early adult life. This tendency could either be from innate curiosity or compulsion to understood, either way; it is a goldmine of unofficial information. Maybe Oksana is the one out of all us who is most aware of the Astankova Anomaly. 

I now access to 10 years’ worth of data points with everything from her mucus production every winter (there is still something approaching regular seasons) to her favourite sexual positions and kinks with a detailed ranking of the physiological response. 

***

The roof becomes her favourite hideaway point. 

Niko and I live in one of the generic apartment buildings that are on offer to workers in the government. The home is clean and safe. At the same time, nobody could claim that this place provides a true sense of home. It is nicer than most of the areas in this town and is an easy distance from both our workplaces. I've done my best to add personal touches and keepsakes from a time when our marriage was a source of comfort and connection. I even have the horrible painting from Niko's mother that still gives me the creeps. 

Buildings, either residential or commercial, need to serve double duty, the materials and design centers around self-sufficiency and minimal impact. All the energy and water is recycled, extensive gardens and foliage grow on the rough and down every available surface. Plants and paint alike need to handle the extreme heat and cold of temperamental weather systems, and for the most part, it works. London is still wealthy enough to afford the best of technologies. At least the smog that dominated the 20th and 21st century is no longer an issue. If only all problems were as solvable. 

The roof and top floors are a feat of engineering and biodiversity, but they are not pleasant. There aren't large gardens overflowing with beautiful plants and flowers. In reality, it is a system of ugly mosses and small scale grasses that feed into filtering systems. There is a low hum of bees from the hives that live in the corner. You would actively need to want a place to hide to come up here, it is hot, wet, and it sticks. However, the readings are perfect in the balance of the ecosystem. Oksana sends me a single emoji as a signal. 

"If you are not careful you will get moss on that perfect suit of yours, neon orange and mud don't go well together." I warn while climbing up the stairs to sit next to her. 

"Well, I know that half the people are too frail to come up here because it is 10 degrees outside the human comfort zone. The heat might melt their fragile skin or something." Oksana replies mockingly as she inhales on a cigarette of some time. 

There won't be tobacco. Even Oksana doesn't have that kind of reach or influence. Besides, with her unpredictable lungs, smoking wouldn't be that pleasant of an experience for her. She may use a herb selection for pain control. One of the difficulties with Enhanced Genetics is that traditional meds do not stay in their systems long enough to have any major impact. All of the cohorts need to look for alternative methods for managing signs and symptoms. 

I perch down on the bench beside her, trying not to wince at the smell. Oksana tends to forget that when she is insulting regular humans, she is talking about people she theoretically likes as well, myself included. With every successive year I feel the temperature fluctuations more. 

***

It doesn't take too long for my idealistic husband to catch on that something is happening. We may live largely separate lives, but we do share common spaces. The fact I spent a few hours every week in the dodgiest part of our building would be something of a clue. He knows I struggle with the labyrinth that is the roof and the top floors. I don’t know if he followed me or if one of our neighbours who like him far better got too curious. In the end, the result is the same. We end up having a blinding flight when neither of us is ready for it. Hours of therapy doesn't enable us to argue in more constructive ways. We end up in a cycle of past regrets and future catastrophes. 

"Are you having an affair with the bioengineer in the building?" he asks as soon as open the door. 

The question is so ridiculous, and out of the left-field, I cannot help but laugh. Keeping a marriage afloat already takes a daunting amount of energy and emotional reserve. Where does Niko think I would gain the energy to have an affair. Besides which, the resident bioengineer is madly in love with her husband and talks about him coming home from America every time we met in the common spaces. There is no chance of that happening even if I could remember her name. 

"What the hell are you talking about? I couldn't reliably pick the woman out of line up, much less have a secret affair around her planting schedule?" I ask, immediately feeling defensive. 

Niko waves a small tablet in front of me, and it takes me a second to focus on the screen. The image is clearly from the apartment security system. Niko must have pulled this down from the internal network. The image is entirely innocent. Oksana and I are standing the stairwell. It takes me a second to even remember the conversation. It's one of many over the last few months. 

"Niko, think about this rationally. Would I risk meeting a lover in the hallway of the building I know is monitored and that you would have access to, that's not even Clara. It's somebody from work who needed my opinion on something." Eve finds the lie effortless, especially when it is the truth. 

"I know what you look like when you are flirting, Eve. Do me the respect of at least telling the truth on this one thing." Niko is almost pleading now. 

The footage must not be that clear or else he would be accusing her of having a midlife crisis with a much younger woman. Niko knows she is bisexual and had girlfriends in university and is not homophobic in the slightest. However, there was always a layer of suspicion that he was second best after Frances went back to Oslo. 

It's not true, but there is no point in relitigating old ground for the sake of technicalities. 

***

Keeping a diary while overseeing this evaluation is a dangerous prospect.

Technically nothing is stopping me from documenting my thoughts and opinions. However, at this point, Carolyn would have no qualms about taking possession of my diary if she thought it could be useful in unraveling the mystery. It was the older woman herself who commented on our 'connection.'. More to the point, I've stated on more than one occasion that I object to pulling Oksana's life apart from when there is no solid proof that the actions will reveal anything meaningful. 

To the outside observer, my diary is boring to anyone. I mainly use the pages (recycled from the true rubbish paper is wasteful) to try and work through theories and conjecture about what is going on with Oksana. For example, I think her body might metabolise sugar and highly processed foods in an unusual way that may be indicative of an abnormal extra metabolism process. 

I write in the journal every few days, and I take the precision of writing in a nonsense code from childhood. Even as a young kid, my parents encouraged a love of STEM subjects, which extended into a love of cyphers and problem-solving. The diary isn't at a high a level of encryption, and anybody with a similar hobbyist lens could crack it. I hope that before Carolyn or any of the others become too interested, this will be an empirical pile of ashes. There are some advantages in still using pen and paper to communicate even with yourself. 

"What are you writing so busily and fiendishly over there? Aren't all the mad scientists online now?" Oksana asks from the office doorway, for once she was early. 

"I am not writing, it’s a cypher. The puzzle geek in me is playing with a few combinations." 

As with most people, the vague explanation is enough for Oksana. Anybody who spends a decent about of time in her company would believe she is that into puzzles. However, Eve resolves to carry her journals with her, so she doesn't present a tempting target. Her subject might snatch them just for the sake of annoying Eve and to prove how amazingly dexterous she is at the same time. There is nothing scandalous in there, but Eve values her privacy even when she cannot offer the same courtesy.

"Come on lets go, if you promise to complete the cognitive and only complain 4 or 5 times, I'll join on the running track and you can laugh at my ancient human bones." Eve bargains by distraction. 

***

"You are a horrible mismatch for Niko Polastri." 

The only thing that surprises me about that statement is that Oksana chooses to place the comment that way round. There is no way that somebody like her would ever see the value and decency in a man like Niko. For some strange reason, Oksana finds me interesting and worthy of obsession so it seems logical she would make the plan of attack from that angle. The Enhanced (shorthand jargon I don't necessarily agree with) surely does anything that makes sense but still, the observation is strange. Stalking me for a few months can't have given her that much of an expert opinion. 

"Is there any point in me telling you we need to get through a rigorous medical exam in three hours and are behind by about 20 minutes?" I ask rhetorically without looking up from my tablet. 

"He wants a safe wife with just the right amount of excitement to make his friends nervous and his belly flip. That's why he still makes you come to all those staff parties even though you are never on time. Niko thinks he can tame you into just the right amount of wild, like those people that use to chase storms in an effort to predict them. Like them rating your degrees of chaos is an exercise in futility now." Oksana continues as if I haven't spoken. 

I can't protest too much because she is talking while completely under the endurance test on the treadmill. The machine is at an angle at a speed that would be unsafe for the regular population to manage long term. Oksana's feet strike the track with powerful strides; her rhythm is flawless. The ability to talk while under such pressure is mildly impressive if intrusive. Even the best of her cohort who are currently at the same facility cannot manage this level of testing. 

"You seem to have a persistent delusion about how interesting a data scientist with a deep and abiding love of statistics can be." I disagree while adjusting the speed once again. 

"You would be doing Niko mercy. Let the main find the daughter of Polish farmers or ask out that English teacher who is half love with him already. He has a secret account on the network already, waiting to activate it. Stop trying to save a marriage that is like one of those Last of Their Species animals kept alive for humans to feel guilty about, let things evolve and change." 

My next move is spiteful, and more than a little dangerous. I let my emotions get the better of me and jam the speed up unexpectedly, mainly as an effort to make Oksana shut up. Nothing seems to be stopping her from dissecting my failure of a marriage. The action is successful, but I immediately reject it when Oksana trips and lands hard on the track. There will be a bruise and a scrap. The equipment doesn't meet any of the safety regulations for the outside world. 

"Ouch. Son of a bitch. I thought my reputation was for being petty." Oksana comments lookup with an almost betrayed look. 

I reach down and offers a hand up even though Oksana doesn't need that level of support. There is a thin trickly of blood on her knee. Without saying a word, I turn to the medical kit that is on the slide of every gym. The wound doesn't need much attention, but it will alleviate my pangs of guilt. I am not a physician, but I still took an oath in the form of a contract to do no harm. 

"Do not bring up Niko again." 


	4. Relationship Decay

_"Let this be our last goodbye_

_No need to wonder why_

_Never had the time to try But don't blame me_

_Don't let me down so slow_

_Damage done, now you can go_

_But a few things that you should know_

_Before you leave_

_Don't you never think of me as one among the rest_

_I've got little else left to defend_

_I'm sure that you've seen better, but for you I did my best But you'll go, I'll stay, I'll begin again Just as you had planned_

_'Cause I've known lonesome things you can't come back from_

_I hope I never see your face again"_

Oksana Astankova is not to blame for the dissolution of my marriage. 

Niko and are our mutual friends often gently and not so gently tease me about my devotion to working with data over people. I have no doubt they have transferred that simmering hostility onto my new assignment. While I _wasn't_ haven't an affair with either Oksana or the bioengineer in the apartment, the fact that my normally easy-going husband was so willing to believe the rumour with no evidence was more a symptom of our unhappy marriage that any desires on either part. I almost wish he found someone else. 

There is plenty that my latest assignment is guilty of, though I doubt her crimes are as extensive as Carolyn fears. If it made any difference, I would give Niko access to all our private conversations on the roof. Nothing is incriminating about or interactions, unless you are an old school bioethicist with traditional views on the scientific method. 

_"Do you want to know something truly sad?" Niko asks as he looks at the printout._

_"If you want to tell me." The lie was easy._

_"I almost wish you were having an affair with the engineer because at least then I could understand your distance and obsession, if it was with a flesh and blood woman."_

_"I almost wish you were having an affair so I could know that you were getting some happiness and gratification from someone, instead of me proving your more correct each year." I confess the words around a tight lump._

There are many different signs that marriage or long term relationship is in trouble. When both parties are wishing for something as uncomplicated as an affair has to be high on the list. Niko is craving some level of emotion from me beyond resignation, which is why he grabbed the images from the roof. It's so far out of character that it does shock me but not in the way he hopes. Our communication is so poor at the moment that being unfaith would be a cakewalk. 

_"You changed when you starting working for the genetics company, mining their data. The Eve I married would never take so many human decencies and pick fights with teachers and facility parties." Niko says hollowly._

_"I haven't changed in the slightest, Niko and that's a big part of the problem."_

Many years ago, an American lawyer called Michael Godwin became famous for coining the notation that online arguments are forfeit if the person resorts to claiming someone is a Nazi. While the point is debatable ¥, surely a similar principle can apply when a husband is constantly looking for a version of his wife that is twenty years out of date. I wasn't a particularly good girlfriend or partner then, and I certainly didn’t have strong opinions or a belief system. There is nothing particularly special about that time; besides that fact, I was little more than an immigrant with an affinity for numbers. Niko Polastri was a teaching student who brightened my worst days and was gentle and encouraging with his students. We bought out the best in each other. 

Nothing could be further from the truth now; we can't even be gentle with each other. 

***

I don't want to leave my husband. 

I am not blind to my faults as a wife nor to the incompatibilities that Oksana so cheerfully pointed out. Niko Polastri and I were different as night and day in grad school, but it was charmingly quaint. Now those differences have grown into a third person in the marriage. All the therapy available to mid-level employees isn't going to change that fundamental reality. The problem is that both of us have become amazing at accepting lower standards and then celebrating when we manage to reach them. It isn't a marital achievement to get through an entire week without a significant fight or a disagreement about real-life events. 

This world of crumbling climates and weakening populations can be a lonely place to live, even in the relative affluence of London. Leisure activities and public gathering like concerts are a thing of the past with air quality being so poor and space being at a premium. Friendship and social gatherings tend to exist within apartment blocks and smaller networks. It wasn't long ago Niko and I was experts at making the best of the situations. Now we float around the apartment rooms with little to say to each other. 

In our respective careers, we are both mid-level, but I have the fortune of working in a field that is directly tackling global events. My mid-level will always outrank Niko's, particularly because he is charmingly old-fashioned and doesn't like to embrace the new technologies and teaching methods. His students adore him, and there is a waitlist for his room, but I will always carry the lion's share of the responsibility. 

A small amount of my pay cycle each week goes towards a fund to enable Niko to do whatever he wants to do, go to Poland for a month or pick a new career path. The money isn't explicitly for him to begin a life without me, but the notion is always there. 

_"There are plenty of sacrifices we need to make for these gains for humanity. The effects of this work will outshine our lifespan by millennia. We are the old men planting a tree for our grandchildren to find shade."_ Carolyn repeats this fable often. 

_"An apt if controversial metaphor in a time when the climate is burning. Somehow I don't think that will make my husband any more amiable when I miss his parents’ anniversary."_

***

There was no dramatic moment with angry tears and bitter accusations. 

Niko and I have fallen into a happy routine for the last few weeks. The teaching calendar dominates all of Niko's time and energy. He goes above and beyond for all the students, especially in these uncertain financial times. There is no guarantee that the job market you are studying for will still be available by the time you graduate. A few years ago, there were rumours that he was having an affair with a student, but they were baseless, Niko is far too honourable for such things. Besides, electronic surveillance gave him a perfect alibi. Strangely, it was during that time of most stress that their marriage was at its strongest. 

We have nothing to say to each other at Niko's birthday dinner. 

I save up all year and get a reservation at one of the few restaurants that supply real meat anymore (produced in small batches). I often wonder if Niko craves the animal products or his grandmother's stories about cooking Polish food the old way. The vegetable mixes and meat alternatives are plentiful and tasty for the most part. Still, I am happy to give him the experience of what he talks about so wistfully. 

I try not to think that this is a metaphor for our marriage, out of step with modern times and clinging to a sense of tradition. The food looks perfect and more than lives up to the reputation and pricy advertising material. However, the meal sits heavy and hard in my stomach and tastes like ashes. Niko seems to be eating methodically without the level of enjoyment I was hoping for either. At least we have a private room so none of the other patrons can judge us or our lack of cheer. 

"How was your day? What are the essays for the Year 13s looking like? Is there hope for the generation's grammar?" I try to open the conversation. 

"No different from the three other times you made the same comment. Teaching doesn't have newsworthy discoveries daily that your work lives for. I'd ask about your work but what excites you would make my skin crawl. We a struggling an ever-dwindling list of safe topics, aren't we? The weather isn't even an option anymore, as it's impossible to predict." Niko offers with a helpless shrug.

"I genuinely do care about what's going on, but I need more to work with than passive aggression and amateur ethics lessons. That job that you hate so much is paying 80% of our bills and health insurance." My reply is snappy. 

"I need more than a wife on paper who only remembers me on birthdays."

***

"Is there any point in asking you why this life isn't enough for you?"

I wince at his question and don't answer until we are back in the apartment and under the privacy shield of our home network. The domestic disputes of residents won't be of interest to the average hacker, but both we have jobs were such things could be exploited by the right criminal. Not that either us have enough money put together for a decent ransom. 

"Please don't pretend that this life is enough for you and that you don't want other characteristics in a wife. I told you exactly who I was in college all those years ago, right down to the poor social cues. You may not be having an affair, but you have been pining after a mythical version of me for close to 15 years." Echoing Oksana probably isn't the best strategy. 

Maybe I should design my mental law. The first person who invokes the word of a brilliant but possibly dangerous genetic test subject is losing some moral high ground. Carolyn would hurl me into the psych lab if I did anything more than write this coded observation in my journals. Oksana Astankova may not be an anomaly in the scientific way that the institute is paying me to assess, but she is an anomaly in my life. The ultimate consequences of such things are still in play. 

"Why did you stay with me if you have everything so figured out already, oh great Dr. Eve?" Niko asks sardonically. 

"Because you weren't the only person who liked or even loved the mythical version of myself. A life with you has brought some of my happiest and best memories. Nobody could make me smile like you and the Bridge Club. It simply isn't sustainable." 

Niko snorts at my lame excuse for the metaphor. I don't blame him; my explanation is weak, but it is the best I can do under the circumstances. There are plenty of people with failing marriages who can claim something similar. 

"So you were just waiting for me to get the picture and make a move. Foolish Niko living in denial when everything is so clear to everyone, was there a hand signal that I missed in the last five years? I could have sworn you were happy once.”

"Happy is not the same as truthful, Niko." 

***

Divorcing is relatively easy from a paperwork perspective. 

The institution of marriage has less practical meaning when the emphasis on keeping entire populations and cities well and free from disease. Pregnancy and childbirth are more scientific than sacred, so there is less emphasis on maintaining family structures that are childless. I haven't figured out which is worse, the fact the government doesn't want me to fight for my marriage or that I have copies of the paperwork in the bottom draw in my wardrobe. I know both of us and any excuse to back out will be a relief if we don't get the ball rolling now. 

Niko and I are common to most couples in our 40s. We have few assets of value that need dividing. Most of the features of any value in the apartment belong to the central housing agencies. Most of the personal effects relate to us as individuals rather than a couple. I will keep a few sentimental shots from happier times when Niko Polastri truly was my best friend in the world. 

Our mutual friends muster up very little sympathy or surprise. The separation is common knowledge within the week of us making the decision which is a bit disconcerting but also a relief. Most of the goodwill stays with Niko, which is only fair he is the far more likeable of the two of us. We will move out of this apartment, and each takes up offers in workplace accommodation. There is no major attachment to the place itself, but the sense of security isn't insignificant. 

"I am happy to continue paying my share if you need more time to back and organise shipping to your mother's house?" I do my best to keep a civil tone. 

"No, I'd rather make a clean break now if that's ok." Niko says firmly, without looking up from the boxing crates. 

***

"If you gloat I will double the laps for today and the rest of the week."

Threatening the subject of your experiment is a massive ethics violation, but everything related to Oksana is a walking violation of some kind. I feel confident we have enough of an understanding to prevent things from getting too out of hand. Oksana has as much to lose as I do if our arrangement fails. 

Oksana doesn't even bother to deny the accusation that she is aware of the latest developments. The minimal privacy measures will pose no challenge to somebody with Oksana's skill sets. She may be giving plenty of information in the weird lists, but she is gaining plenty as well. The separation from Niko is easier in some ways than I expect it to be; we are both ready for things to change wheather or not we can admit it to themselves. Niko's family in Poland is probably throwing a party to celebrate his freedom. 

"You can do better." Oksana says quickly before breaking into a run. 

The comment is tamer than I would expect and doesn't merit a response. Oksana is reaching another milestone in her testing soon, and we need to factor in as much practice as possible. Her vital signs are staying relatively stable, but they will need to hold up under considerably more stress than the labs can generate. The word torture would be accurate but such words a generally reserved for historical times before the world and humanity started to fail at equally escalating rates. 

I wave my hand before watching her carefully as she hits the track. My knowledge of physiology and exercise is limited, but Oksana makes tracking her progress easy. She meets every new milestone without complaint and minimal talkback. Her skin may bruise, and muscles strain but a minor thing like physical discomfort doesn't stop her from excelling as the cohort does in the areas of being 'superhuman.' Oksana will run in these impossible conditions until I say stop or more likely my human frailty means we head inside and out of the baking temperature. 

"We are heading to the pool after this." I say into the communicator attached to Oksana's running suit. 

Strangely even though she aggravates me as a blood sport, working with Oksana is an ultimate and invigorating distraction. She is like a puzzle book that changes languages every week. The things that interest me to correlate perfectly with what the rest of the team is looking for but Oksana enjoys giving me the data sticks like candy. Today I found one in my pocket with her experimentation of oxygen deprivation. The notion makes me shudder, but the information is useful and will bolster my theory. 

I will not be favored when we do the sugar fast next week.

***

We keep our regular dates on the roof, heat, stink, rot and all. Of course, such a statement could be a metaphor for my life at the moment. 

"Will you have to move away from London? What are the apartments like for single people?"

I blink in surprise at the words. Oksana has expressed many things to me over the weeks of our association, especially during these unofficial visits. However, genuine concern for my wellbeing or my existence outside our time together isn't top of her list, unless something sparks her curiosity. Living on my own is going to be difficult, but I am in a better position than most, having secure employment and plenty of fringe benefits to working for Carolyn Martens. My somewhat inconsistent reputation as an Oksana Whisper is affording some lenience. 

"Irrespective of the consequences, I needed to make the break. Please don't take too much credit. Niko and I were having problems long before you managed to trick your first psychological evaluation. We were simply idealists for different areas. Him for the past and me for the future that involves working with Enhanced Humanity Projects." I explain simply. 

"It's a little tragic that one of those genetic freaks is your confidant in such things, complete with moral dilemmas and failing genomes, isn't there a divorcee club you can join or something?" 

"Sorry if I'm boring you, Oksana, but you are the one that wants to prod my psyche with a sharp stick to see what will move. Sometimes the most mundane matters come to the surface. Besides your genome isn't failing. The word failure implies that there is a plan you are failing to meet." Eve shrugs. 

"I certainly don't come here for the pleasant surroundings. You aren't boring me, Eve."

"At the risk of inflating your already considerable ego, you are providing valuable insights into the Grand Experiment, even if we don't know exactly how the specifics work." 

We sit there in silence for several long moments. Nobody in their right mind would come to Oksana for any comfort, but there is something attractive about the lack of expectation or idle chatter. Oksana can and will leave at any given moment to chase a woman or champagne. Her presence in my life at that moment fills a particular need and doesn't exceed those boundaries, which is a weird thing to say about a woman who for all intents and purposes is stalking me with no regard for social norms.

These circumstances are an unusual start to my life without a husband or social conventions. 


	5. Rules and Exceptions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After approximately 399 hours of watching CNN :-)

"A rule without exceptions is an instrument capable of doing mischief to the innocent and bringing grief -- as well as injustice -- to those who should gain exemptions from the rule's functioning." 

― Derrick Bell

"It's take your pet monster to work day!"

I glower at Oksana for the bad taste joke. The younger woman doesn't pay me the slightest bit of attention and bounds enthusiastically ahead in reality. My charge sees this all as one grand adventure complete with opportunities to cause mayhem and mischief. The truth is more sobering for people who live with the consequences of such things. Carolyn Martens and the rest of her team do not call impromptu meetings of the entire Enhanced Genetics Group and the Cohorts without warning. There are far too many logistics in play to make this a simple exercise. 

On a personal note, she recalled me from annual leave where I was putting together the ashes of a post-separation life. No amount of pleading gave any special privileges. I may be Oksana Astankova's keeper which is tantamount to a belief in my 'mystical powers' but for certain matters I am another scientist with mid-level clearance. One thing I can be relatively confident in is that Oksana has nothing to do with this particular problem. She is incapable of being subtle and not trying to take credit for all the trouble. Besides, she keeps bombarding me with the same questions that are echoing in my head. 

"How bad are your relationships with the rest of your age mates who live here?" I ask the question with zero tact. 

"What makes you think we don't have secret meetings with handshakes and group songs? Where we all talk about saving the planet and those people less fortunate than us?" Oksana asks innocently. 

"Because it took me three meetings with you to realise that conceptualising interpersonal relationships in degrees of severity are the standard operating procedure. While I still argue you that you aren't the mythical unicorn that scares interns in the corridors, you have strange notions of human interactions." I explain, careful to keep my voice light. 

"Yet you keep coming back for more?" Oksana asks, tilting her head curiously. 

"I never could leave a puzzle alone, even when it was the sensible option. Plus there are plenty of fringe benefits to being your chief wrangler, Oksana." I admit honestly. 

"Yet you are the only one to succeed in that position after the 6 to 10 blood draws, isn't that curious?" 

"Not really, I have the good fortune of a level of phlebotomy training, and you have enough self-preservation instincts to know that you couldn't avoid the system forever and keep the money. So there was a combination of fortunate or unfortunate events, depending on your point of view." My shrug isn't quite casual. 

***

"Be careful and don't talk unless somebody talks to you directly."

"Should I put a bow in my hair and practice my bowing too, Eve? I can greet them in at least four different languages.”

We stop at our favourite breakfast place for me to get access to the strongest coffee they serve. It took me a while to track down Oksana after getting the call from Carolyn at just after dawn. Surprisingly, it took me little time to convince her to change plans for the day. Since I took time off to deal with the Niko situation, Oksana took advantage of a free schedule too. She looks like a peacock in the high fashion suit in bright pink and green, with dangerously high shoes. 

I am grateful that she is one of the few people that isn't curious about my new life without Niko. This moment is where her selfishness is useful to me. Oksana doesn't have a concept of normality but at least banters and needles predictably. I eat my breakfast bagel, and my companion demolishes a specially-sized 'big breakfast.' Making the odd comment about the meeting and what to expect in the absence of actual information. 

"I expected you to be more insufferable and wiping at stray tears every time we pass a happy couple or something that reminded you of Poland or The Teacher." There is definite approval in her tone. 

"You can be confident that even if I were barely holding my heart and amygdala together, you wouldn't be high on my list of people to unburden such things. Carolyn hardly grants me the week to move; there is no way I'm going to recreate a romantic drama on the way to a full-scale alert meeting. If we could avoid talking or referencing the change in my status at all that would be great on multiple levels." I try to keep finality in my voice. 

"Ooookey." Oksana draws out the word for dramatic effect. 

I am not foolish enough to think that this conversation will be the end of the matter entirely. My separation provides too many opportunities for Oksana to have fun and gauge my reactions. However, at least for the duration of this meeting, and our business for that day, she will stay silent on the matter. Oksana has more self-control than the suits give her credit for in all their hand wringing. If there is enough incentive for her to obey, then she is perfectly capable of doing so for extended periods.

"Consider it more time for us to go over the analysis plotting you love so much. The more information we give the team during official meetings the less likely it is I will need to chase you all over London and away from the various amusements." My bargain. Still, Oksana does seem in a generous mood. 

We pause at wait for the rest of the people to go in before us. Oksana likes to take a specific spot in the auditorium that nobody else seems to favour, so it's a good excuse to people watch, not that there is much to see. The Enhanced Humans appear perfectly ordinary by design. They could fit into a crowd, either in their home regions or the multicultural centres. 

***

"Eve, I need to speak to you and Ms. Astankova."

I wince at Carolyn's sharp words. The meeting and debriefing are relatively successful. Oksana manages to sit still for the entire hour and ignore the curious glances and whispers. I feel oddly protective and shoot glares at the interns. The meeting is disappointingly generic, announcing that there is a change in security protocols because a group of the Russian and Polish Cohorts have gone 'rogue'. Of course, Carolyn and her minions don't use such a descriptive term, but that is what the drama especially boils down to without the qualifies. 

_"There are considerable security measures that need reviewing based on their current known level of access; all protocols and clearances will rotate to the highest level. Cancel any holiday plans or existing assignments, beyond standard evaluations; our team will be calling on you for different tasks."_

The subtext of those words is that these people's lives are the whim of the company responsible for their creation. The notion of people going 'off script' isn't entirely without precedence. Oksana may be the most obvious and notable 'problem' in their grand line of perfection, but she isn't the only anomaly. She is the one that gets all the credit and the fear. Up until this point, the other irregularities were relatively benign. The biggest concerns were in variations in performance under extreme conditions or the activation of the immune response. The notion of a planned alliance and rebellion is something of a nightmare scenario. 

"The two of you are going to play a different role in this than the rest of the group. Please come with me for a private briefing." Carolyn is moving to her office without waiting for questions or disagreements.

"Ooooh aren't we special." Oksana whispers sarcastically. 

I would stake a month's salary on the idea that Oksana doesn't know anything about the security breach or what the others are planning. Oksana isn't one for teamwork in the first place, but she certainly isn't one for following a particular plan beyond her wants and whims. We may be dealing with two anomalies, but they are two different kinds, and there is little use making comparisons. 

However, making such decisions is several rungs above my pay grade, which 9/10 is an excellent thing. This current crisis could be that one exception to the rule when no amount of pretty words is going to keep the spotlight of Oksana and her reputation as the centre of all chaos. I am powerless but not overly surprised when they separate us, and three guards follow Oksana. 

***

"What the hell is going on, Carolyn?"

I watch from behind the two-way mirror as Oksana is unceremoniously connected to a lie detector from hell. The machine monitors even the slightest physiological changes and does a complex series of algorithms to account for this group's different metabolism. Unlike the regular devices, this one can inflict pain or altered sensations. For the sake of testing reactions, Oksana is the champion of beating the score, and I have all the records from her last 30 attempts. However, to my knowledge, she hasn't been the subject of an active integration like this before.

"Surely, you understand why Oksana Astankova is a suspect in building a potential rebellion amongst the Enhanced population. Her life is one long series of disobedience. We are talking about high compensated public servants with exceptional abilities no longer communicating in any meaningful way. The other facilities did not have the advantage of calling on your unique expertise, in wrangling anomalies." Carolyn points out without looking away from the scene. 

"To the best of my knowledge, Oksana doesn't even know this group, much less lead them from afar. Do you honestly expect you her to treat this as anything more than a game?" I work to keep my voice under control. 

As if to prove my point, Oksana starts smirking at the technician who is administering the test. Carolyn doesn't turn on the com system, but it isn't difficult to work out that Oksana is baiting that person and daring them to turn up the pressure. She has exceptional physiological control aside from the unexplained weaknesses that we are investigating. There will be plenty of information for them to measure, but none of it will be insightful or actionable. If I was in on the call that made all these decisions, I could have told them that in the first place. 

"Of course not, I've read the file. At this stage, we are ruling Oksana out so that we can put her skillset to use with a level of certainty that she won't join the rebels." Carolyn explains the point as if she is talking to a small child. 

"Don't you have entire security forces and intelligence officer who train for these kinds of scenarios?" I wonder out loud, trying to get a sense of things. 

"They will be working at this from another angle but if anybody can predict the unpredictable then it is our resident anomaly. We always have the good fortune of you knowing a passible amount of Russian and being fluent in Polish. The geography of our civil unrest couldn't be better." Carolyn sounds far too self-satisfied for my liking. 

"Fluent isn't the word I would use. There is plenty of syntaxes that goes over my head. How long are we going to be away on this fishing trip?" I ask, even though I have no plans to cancel. 

"There is a list of sites we think they will return to or resources they will need to access. Oksana will visit the places and look for evidence, and you will ensure she does discretely and quietly. The last thing we need is a flare-up of the Anti-Enhancement Movements and the hypothetical dangers."

***

"Another freakshow is going full-on rogue, without being sensible about it?"

I feel a strange sense of unreality at how fine Oksana seems after several hours of interrogation. The methods weren't as horrific as I feared but still over the top when there is a digital trail outlining 90% of Oksana's interactions in the timeframe. Fortunately for her, the 'rebel group' is in a completely separate cohort, so their levels of _possible_ collusion have its limits. For another, my role as keeper means I can act as an unofficial alibi. Nobody needs to know about our meetings on the roof, but I can produce a graph of her movements in under two seconds flat. 

"Try not to sound so gleeful, Oksana. This situation is a serious threat to national security. The cohort is being almost completely unpredictable." 

"But Dr. Eve, you are always complaining that I don't have any friends or play with others nicely. Doesn't it warm your data-obsessed heart to know that there could be others like your pet anomaly? Oksana makes the statement in a disturbingly sing-song voice.

"I don't have the energy to argue with you about the correct language to frame our relationship. Trust me when I say you need to be as cooperative as possible. Today will look like child's play in comparison if you don't, Sana." I almost sound like I'm pleading. 

I try not to wince at the bruises that are visible on her pale skin. The techs were respectful and relatively gentle, but still, there is evidence of the interrogation. Oksana will deny anything is wrong if I bring it up directly, but she is moving slower than normal and appears to wince at any loud noises or bright lights. It would be so much easier to blame this on a hangover. Such weaknesses were edited out of the genome.

***

"Why is everybody losing their collective minds? I've looked at these groups’ performance stats; They are a middle of the road at best.”

"Have you paid attention to anything we have been doing over the last few months, Oksana? This level of irregularity is frightening for the future of the programme." 

Somehow we end up back at the featureless apartment that I call home now that my separation is final. There are aspects of the old place that I miss. However, a feature of life on a fragile planet is the ability to adapt. People of my generation could not always be guaranteed secure housing. Anything is an improvement on the high-density student accommodation. Oksana keeps dropping off pretty and colourful things which may or may not be legal. I keep a record of them in the secret code diary. There is no rhythm or reason to the offerings. 

"It depends on the topic. Sometimes you geek out about numbers and curves far too much and not the fun kind of curves." Oksana points out archly. 

"And yet you keep providing me with the random data sets of your existence?" I point out without looking up from the computer. 

"You look like a curious rodent, and you look so cute when you have new information. It is too tempting to feed that particular addiction since you won't share any of your fun inclinations with me, though those are fairly transparent if you know where to look." Oksana says the last comment off hand as if they are discussing an item of clothing. 

I resist the urge to give a sarcastic quip in response. Bantering with this woman may be a fun perk of the job. I also need to have a sense of self-preservation for the both of us. She may not believe the situation with the rouges is dangerous, but any scientist worth their salt could see the warning signs a mile away. 

***

Oksana Astankova is not a unicorn. 

I do not claim to be an expert on many things. Big data analysts like myself are a baker's dozen. Doing such things in an entirely new industry in a world where governments need to make changes on a massive and fast scale—however, thanks to the scheming from Carolyn Martens, I am an expert in all things to do with this young and brilliant woman. Predictably, I am not finding the information that everybody is begging for; there isn't a flaw or series of problems to fix or workout before the next intake of nationwide enhancements. 

The powers that find both our organisation and wider government are in a panic about are 'anomalous clusters' in the neat, precise flow of data for Enhanced Genetics. What truly terrifies them that all these young people are at an age where thinking for themselves could become a reality. The deal of high income, excellent accommodation and superpowers is appealing against a backdrop of chaos. However, to date, the science has not designed obedience and a lack of a few wills into the code. There aren't many limits to the scope of this operation, but that is hard at fast one. 

"They want me to hunt down the renegades like a dog on the hunt through the old wilds of Siberia, don't they? The best way to catch a rebel is with another one on a leash?" The comment is dry and quick. 

Oksana observes this while leaping across moving targets in the gymnasium; the obstacles become trickier progressively and from my perspective more daunting. While we are waiting for official orders, the most logical path is to complete the standard testing rates. As a data scientist, the information is unremarkable and well within the Oksana version of 'normal.' 

"Carolyn isn't providing me with any more information than she is offering you. You theoretically have the skill sets and unorthodox methods to find these people and assess their intentions." I reframe her wording slightly. 

"Of course with you acting in the role of my keeper and watchdog, increase my 'extreme impulses' win out over the better angels of my nature?" Oksana looks back and gives me a condescending smile. 

"’Extreme impulses' implies that you have a predictable resting state which is not readily apparent. I'll be there, so we don't lose observation cycles with the new routine. We are still working towards the next evaluation cycle. Your new 'mission' doesn't take away from the primary goal." I explain absently gesturing for her to continue moving. 

"Cannot deprive you of your precious databases, can we, Dr. Eve?" Oksana returns mockingly. 

"It was easier when my data points didn't talk back and offer such insights, but I am confident when can do the two things simultaneously. You will be pleased to know that Carolyn has authorised considerable funds for this operation and you can pick the restaurants.

“Lead the way.”


	6. Bloodhound

_"You cannot hope to build a better world without improving the individuals. To that end, each of us must work for his own improvement and, at the same time, share a general responsibility for all humanity, our particular duty being to aid those to whom we think we can be most useful"._ Marie Curie- Polish Scientist 

_"Even broken in spirit as he is, no one can feel more deeply than he does the beauties of nature. The starry sky, the sea, and every sight afforded by these wonderful regions, seems still to have the power of elevating his soul from earth. Such a man has a double existence: he may suffer misery, and be overwhelmed by disappointments; yet, when he has retired into himself, he will be like a celestial spirit that has a halo around him, within whose circle no grief or folly ventures."_

_― Mary Shelley, Frankenstein_

Geography was always contentious notion and remains such in this new reality. 

Historians and geographers spend lifetimes debating the limits and ranges of locations, space borders, only for the maps and boundaries to be redrawn when the next great or small event occurs, everything from massive climate events to the latest playground in London. The major distinction of this current environment is that the scraps of truly temperate land, suitable for mass populations, are becoming smaller and those in those spaces have no choice but to adapt to extreme measures to survive. Nations and nationhood are secondary to the ability to minimising the distraction.

Eve is ideally pondering this fact as she is standing in a massive room that is wall to digitised wall maps. The countries are reminiscent of those in the history books, but the predominant feature is Red, Orange and Green Zones that reflect the levels to which an average human needs protective gear to enter the space. The Green areas are growing slowly again, that's due to unifying and massive efforts in the most crucial regions, in particular the places with natural resources. Still, the term 'Climate Refugee' is almost redundant as everyone is to a lesser or greater extent, it’s a matter of degrees and wealth. 

"The points on the maps and their last known activities and the best hypothesis about their directions. There are only so many routes that even the best of the Enhanced Humans can tolerate." Jess explains in her usual firm and decisive tone. 

"We are definitely _not_ talking about the pick of the proverbial litter or test tube stew." Oksana asserts confidently from her position in the doorway. 

"Our safeguards are in place for a reason, Oksana. A cohort who can circumvent measures with little to no effort should be underestimated. We are treating this as an actual security breach." Jess snaps back. 

"You safeguards are there to stop people cowering in their beds about the genetic potential they will never experience. You are desperate to prove your last remaining hope is viable. Didn't successive old, white guys, many from my country teach you that control is an illusion? The metaphorical or metaphysical abyss is staring back at you, Boo!" Oksana says the last part with far too much glee. 

"Why are you here, exactly? We are not taking time away from a security threat to baby sit another." Jess says the words stiffly while glowering at me. 

"You couldn't control me for the time it takes those still swelling ankles to get across the room." Oksana quips back childishly. 

"Your bulletproof mentality is a dangerous thing to have when you cost this institution more than ten of your cohort put together. You ungrateful little.." 

"Can we get back to the crisis at hand, please you both ran out of original insults at least ten days ago. Squabbling over the obvious is beneath both of you." I interject, pinning them each with an intense gaze. 

"I expected better of you when Carolyn bumped your pay grade about 20 places." Jess scowls again. 

I tense both at the implication my ability to keep Oksana in check is lacking and the tension in the room. People who work at Enhanced Genetics are naturally orderly. Jess takes this notion to a whole new level. It's my personal belief that she is so resentful of a difficult pregnancy because there are so few elements she can control. Whatever Carolyn thinks, Oksana doesn't accept me due to innate skill or magic, I have merely had a higher threshold for chaos than about 92% of the people here. The more prejudiced amongst them blames my prolonged exposure to Americanism. 

***

"I am a glorified bloodhound with much better hair."

I want to argue the point, but as usual, Oksana is right in her dramatic way. We are packing for the trip to Russia and Poland. To be more precise, Oksana is watching me get ready while she makes comments and judgement on everything from fashion choices to the quality of the suitcases. The key thing is that we will need to be on the move at a moment's notice. While the security teams are relatively confident there isn't a massive breach in the works, there is still the possibility that our targets are dancing to someone else's song sheet. 

We cannot spend an indefinite amount of time in places that are still technically hostile towards my home country or both of them as the case may be. Besides, the rogues are moving between cities at an almost frantic rate, and we will need to be strategic. I have serious problems with some of the practices of my employer, and they only deepen on this new assignment. However, fundamentally, I believe in science and the idea that we can use genetics to heal. There are so many projects that this small rebellion can and is putting at risk. For all her many flaws, Oksana has never gone completely off the grid before. 

"Well, you are the one that is constantly complaining that this group is substandard and on the average end of exceptional. Now is your chance to gloat, have everything neatly in the bag before the next evaluation." I offer my best challenging look.

"It will depend on how brave the 'little cousins' are willing to be, there are Red Zones, and then there are fresh, arterial bleed, Red Zones. You do understand that those maps and tracing systems are mostly bullshit, right. I could outwit those before I hit double digits, very useful when you want to want to run contraband sweat runs before testing days." Oksana confides the point somewhat casually. 

"My original point still stands, regardless of what tactic they choose to take, you will outwit them with time to spare." My words are as close to order as our relationship will allow. 

"Your faith is touching, Eve. As long as you are there to patch up this malfunctioning body when the idiots show a threat of courage and go hot." Oksana bargains with a charming grin. 

There is a difference between knowing something in principle and having Oksana confirm the truth with such calmness. I shudder to think of a place that is dangerous enough to merit such a description from my normally fearless charge. There are more than a few parts of the planet that humanity has collectively lost control of because their ecosystems were fragile from the start. 

In a way, the fact that the rogues are plotting these courses is the ultimate proof of concept. Enhanced Humans are strong enough to deal with the present work and the changes that may exist in the future. Whatever happens in our mission to track these individuals down, the data analysts like me will have plenty of rich material to work from for the next months or so, especially if they come back voluntarily. I am counting myself out of that race; one rogue is more than enough for me to handle. 

***

"Do you have any theories as to why they broke away now? There isn't any sign of discontent in their files."

"You know that we don't all have a secret telepathic bond, right? I've met 30 of my fellow freaks and of those people I can tolerate 1 or 2 people maximin." Oksana isn't as disinterested as she tries to appear. 

"Still, you like puzzles and games all most as much as I do, what do you see in their trail?" I ask without looking up from the journaling notes. 

"Whatever gave you that idea, Nerd. I hate games unless my win is a certainty and that my victory can be on display, I like mechanisms of power and the ways to pull them." 

"You realise its statements like that people get nervous about? If you want to avoid having a glorified babysitter quit trying to emulate Machiavelli." I advise almost by reflex now. 

"You aren't going to rat me out. If I was in trouble with Auntie Carolyn, you wouldn't have interesting things for that beloved journal of yours." Oksana points out with supreme confidence. 

We are travelling with all the comforts that our respective stations allow. Oksana may be an outlier, but she is familiar with the perks of her station and is not shy about letting anybody know it. In my experience, most people carry wealth and privilege in the shadows. The modesty isn't real, of course, a show in the face of such suffering of people as a whole. My travelling companion is perfectly content with people knowing that her outfit is worth more than most people’s monthly income. 

"Us being here is likely a waste of time. This collection of misfits do not have enough brain cells between them to launch an effective takedown plan. They'll be looking for a place to hide and stay off the grid."

On the surface, the situation is relatively simple. There is a black market for everything in this world, even the services of humans who are the product of genetic tampering. This group specifically are not remarkable amongst their cohorts of extraordinary. Of the six core members, only two were a cause for concern at any stage, even then the infractions were relatively minor. Somehow I don't think my or any of the team working in big data will be of any help here. Oksana's unique brand of outlandishness and brilliance will be the deciding factor. I will be the Watson to her Sherlock Holmes. Perhaps it is more accurate to call her Moriarty in this situation, again with better hair. 

One of the biggest problems is that this group is likely to have enablers. This network of helpers will exist both inside and outside the organisation. A particular kind of people is looking to enter Red Zones without attracting attention or resulting in the loss of human life. It wouldn't be difficult to find uses for their skills and abnormal physiology. It's more likely than not that they all have access to liquid funds. 

***

"You know this could all be an elaborate plan to get rid of me as a living embodiment of collective genetic failure?"

Oksana observes the possibility as we walk through the streets of the Polish capital city, Warsaw. The rogues were here briefly, they appear to switch between main towns and off the grid. We are going to talk to one of the security officers about items in their hiding place. Several documents are in code and its possible they have links to Enhanced Genetics. 

Having a mission in Warsaw prevents me from dwelling on how well I know the city and how happy Niko and I were once. The familiar sounds of the Polish language almost make me want to smile and cry at the same time. Contrary to Carolyn's belief, I am far from a fluent speaker, but I understand enough to operate in the country without arising too many suspicions. Oksana corners the market on being a 'Lazy Polyglot.' She knows and speaks an intimidating amount of languages, but this is not a skill she seeks to use or cultivate for any particular reason. 

"It’s good that you think so highly of yourself to believe that people will risk billions of dollars to take you down." I quip back to hide my discomfort at the notion. 

"Come now, Eve, you have a small governmental library's worth of digital data on me, tracking everything from ovulation to that weird allergy session in Prague. Do you honestly think I will be the type of person to live a long and happy life outside the usefulness window? There is practically an expiration date on the back of my neck. I mean look at these shoes, I am made for a Greek tragedy or something. "Oksana says the words without a trace of concern or fear. 

Indeed, the shoes that Oksana is wearing would not look out of place with one of the great fashion icons of old. While that would make any orthopaedic surgeon or podiatrist cry, the gravity-defying height adds the appeal of the bright purple and green. 

"Are you going into numbers withdrawal?"

"I'm sure I can survive until your next round of testing. If things get desperate, there are always number plates to add up and free puzzle games on the network."

The glare I shoot Oksana is mainly for show. Anybody who spends more than an hour in my company knows that I am a passionate puzzler and enjoy working with numbers and patterns. One of the many reasons I am unsuitable for the higher levels in the company is that I loathe the parts of the job that take me away from the raw input and output measures. Such dedication did nothing for my marriage, social life or circadian rhythm. However, I did manage to carve out my niche, with employee benefits and the respect of my bosses. 

In a way, Oksana Astankova is a living embodiment of the mystery and cypher that I crave. I know that Carolyn plays a dangerous game, putting faith in my ability to keep her attention. However, it would be impossible to deny that being the one to solve the puzzle is an attractive notion. Even having such thoughts makes me the living embodiment of an ethical dilemma but my conscience is only mildly bothered. Oksana is well within her rights to stop this little game we are playing together. 

"Feel free to ask me any questions you like, I know how fascinating all you data people find me and the vagaries of such a talented yet wasteful mind." Oksana makes the offer by parroting one of the psychiatrists. 

"Is this a limited time offer?"

"Only valid until I flame out in the aforementioned blaze of glory." Oksana confirms. 

***

"I'll go round the underground contacts and see what I can find for the right amount of bribery." 

We are staying in one of the isolated villages that can still justify both the terms remote and cold. Even so, there are sophisticated tracking systems and technology in play. Environmental Science is one of the most well-funded branches of the government. Russia and so of its allies may not adore the idea of joining global movements, thereby ending their intergenerational isolationist tendencies but they can't deny the need. Caroline has done a creditable job of setting us up with passes to areas that would normally take months to enter. Oksana keeps boasting that she doesn't need them, but an undercurrent of admiration still lingers. 

"Your latest tests weren't fantastic when it came to temperature endurance." 

I say the words firmly but keep my voice light. Oksana makes constant jokes about her status as an anomaly and her body's failings. At the same time, she makes a habit of downplaying the reality when in the field. To the best of the medical team's knowledge, all the cohorts have normal pain receptors, Oksana tends to ignore hers. The number of tests Enhanced Genetics put her through doesn't sit easily with me, but my charge is responsible for many of the more graphic injuries on fine. 

"Did I miss the part where this was a free holiday and we could look at the hellscape for fun? Not that I would mind spending time wandering this crumbling earth with you, Dr. Eve."

***

Oksana is playing games within the cohort, and they are accepting the challenge. 

She is making zero efforts to hide her activities which means she wants to be on display and to antagonise either me, Carolyn, or the world in general. Carolyn Martens is many things, but foolish isn't one of them, expecting me to keep Oksana in line like a good little soldier comes close though. Oksana is doing her job without fault or complaint, and she is even turning in reports on time and taking calls from the people in our support crew, but the ability to play the game and willingly following the rules are two entirely different things.

It's possible, if not likely that she is using this exercise to heighten her skills at needling the establishment. I'm almost 100% sure Oksana is too much of a loner to be in league with them, but that doesn't mean she isn't in the market for inspiration. I must admit that the group of rogues may not have formal training, but they are far from the amateurs that Oksana scorns daily. 

"Is whatever you are doing likely to get me killed, captured or in any other way hike up my insurance premiums for the rest of my natural life?" I ask blithely. 

"Weren't you the one that was berating me for having delusions of grandeur thinking everything involves me in some way, Eve? I am following our instructions to the letter, complete with my reflections as a fellow freak." Oksana replies casually, without looking up from the computer screen. 

Oksana is such a good liar because she includes enough truth to appease audiences. It's no great surprise that she manipulated successive psychiatrists and testers. Multiple degrees do not make anyone immune; they more than most others are under pressure to get the expected results. If 999 people out of a thousand produce scores on a particular scale, nobody is looking for the one outlier to show up.

"Oksana, this isn't the time to play games with me. What are the secondary clues you are following and are you communicating with them in some way?" I press the point, willing her to listen to me. 

"It depends what you mean by 'communicate', its more that they are bothering to hide their tracks particularly well from the people that can read the signs. We'll catch up with them in a town or two; there are only so many 'hospitable' Red Zones to go around. No need to worry about your precious deadlines and the praise kink dynamic you have going on with Carolyn." her tone is condescending. 

"If you don't start answering my questions with useful intel, I will make you sit through the 'Safe Conversations' and 'Emotional Sensitivity' training videos for a week when we get home, in each of the languages we have in your file." I annunciate the last part with deliberate slowness.

"You wouldn't..." there is something akin to genuine horror. 

"Take the beat. I will enjoy the good coffee and break time." I make a move ahead. 

"Fine. Most of what they are talking about doesn't even make sense if there is a secret Enhanced Language I certainly wasn't first in line for the decoder ring. The code relies on the fact we can see things in far greater detail than the average human and can run codes quickly. All the materials dissolve in a few seconds to a minute, its why there is no trace." Oksana explains gesturing to a seemingly blank wall. 

"Do your best to translate, Oksana." 


	7. Useless Conversations

_"Hateful day when I received life!' I exclaimed in agony. 'Accursed creator! Why did you form a monster so hideous that even you turned from me in disgust? God, in pity, made man beautiful and alluring, after his own image; but my form is a filthy type of yours, more horrid even from the very resemblance. Satan had his companions, fellow-devils, to admire and encourage him; but I am solitary and abhorred.' - Frankenstein."_

_― Mary Shelley, Frankenstein_

The cohort escapes Oksana's tracking, and the weather does them no favours. 

I think it is likely a matter of pride for my companion that the Russian and Polish Enhanced Humans do not escape. Despite all her cynical posturing I sincerely doubts we are being set up to fail. A security breach on this scale is mortifying and politically incendiary. The ability to predict the behaviours of this first group is a cornerstone of government and societal approval. Oksana Astankova may have a difficult position amongst her peers, but she is still a memory of the elite class and throwing her away will be a waste of resources. If anything in this new world is a universal thing; it is wasting elements. I may be losing faith in the institution, but I understand power well enough. 

"We are going to need to head underground. The storm that is tracking is pushing the scales again. Though why they bother to measure such things still is beyond me. There is a new record every 'season'. I'm only the lab rat that the result gets tested against." Oksana says with a careless shrug. 

"How long will that delay us?" I ask, looking at my watch in frustration. 

"They didn't include fortune telling my generic scramble, Dr. Eve. It's not like your beloved Lost Boys will fare any better. Their endurance scores are pathetic. You as somebody who is old and out of shape could do better." Oksana replies, leading me away from the streets. 

As with most commodities that become essential in an emerging society, the safe spaces and tunnels have a class system. There are public and private spaces to ride out extreme and sudden weather events in the Red Zones. Eve's middle-class roots revolt against the notion of such privilege. However, there is time to argue the point. Oksana expects the relative wealth of ‘guinea pig' salary and will not submit to being in the publicly available spaces. Besides, there is a certain level of security threat inherent in travelling with Oksana Astankova. 

"We are fortunate there is a service shelter not too far. If we are lucky and this is a fierce but quick event, we can still catch up with the runaways before they start continent-hopping." I say decisively after consulting my phone. 

"Or we could get lucky, and these idiots get overconfident and die of exposure. They are probably angling to make a living hunting for resources in the Red Zone." Oksana suggests spitefully, but she follows without too much protest. 

"You better hope not, such rebellion gives more people for Enhanced Genetics to focus their attention. There are more members in Anomaly Club." I quip back.

"No, I don't think more members of the club will do any good." Oksana says, sounding strangely thoughtful for a second. 

I don’t have time to consider the notion as we move closer into the safe zone and tunnel. Thankfully the security features and codes work instantly, and they tumble into the secure room before the worst of the weather spikes. I can feel the chill sting effects of the wind and dust on my checks from the brief time on the street. I will need to apply some of the creams and clothes to avoid severe irritation and possible infection. Oksana won't face similar problems but I still resolve to do a basic health check.

***

"They'll be sheltering in the third or fourth shelter if you need to report that to the Puppet Masters." Oksana predicts helpfully. 

I turn to my companion and glares suspiciously both at the tone and the use of such descriptors. The hunt for the rebellious cohort will be almost impossible until the weather system/brief storm reaches safe levels. Even then moving around will only be possible with the right supplies. Oksana moves around this space like she is familiar with the architecture and functioning of a high-end shelter. She enters the code to get rations in seconds and starts sorting through the more tasty foods on offer. Her strangely functioning metabolism is still on display with Eve's monitoring, but the sugar addiction is less intense. 

"Carolyn will be monitoring the shifts in weather and will understand the delays. We may as well get comfortable." I say before shrugging out of my jacket. 

"Or the grand overlord with a strange love affair with shoulder pads expects us to defy the laws and hunt the losers anyway. She doesn't want anything altering the plan for superhumans that can survive the end times." Oksana warns with a droll smile before resuming her eating pace. 

"I am not taking you out there. Your endurance scores are excellent, but such things seem to take a physiological toll. The group's activities and movements won't get very far in full lockdown mode. We will be sensible employees and wait everything out." I say, trying to inject the right amount of authority into my voice. 

"You are simply afraid of crossing Carolyn and making more paperwork for her and the minions that call her boss." Oksana accuses with a mocking smile. 

"Any sane person is a little afraid and in awe of Carolyn Martens. The woman is terrifying and doesn't care who knows it. There are plenty of rumours about her dealings in the beginning of the Enhancement Programme. It's best to not antagonise the sleeping giant that is her temper." Eve advises. 

"But it's so fun to watch her try and figure out ways to punish me while knowing that she has little to no direct power of my every life. Her eyes do this scrunching bulging thing; it's not boring.” Oksana says that last part as if boredom is the worst crime on the planet. 

"Please, leave me out of your little power games. Jobs for people in my area are fairly hard to acquire. I have a single income now and need to start putting things away for boring stuff like retirement that mere mortals face. Carolyn enjoys her games too, but there are limits to her Soviet-era nostalgia." I warn with a vaguely pleading look. 

"Don't worry, you are the darling child of the movement and data science, now that you have little old me in line. They will pay you whatever you ask for, so get creative with your demands while you have my attention like a crow with a mirror." Oksana advises, raising her eyebrows suggestively. 

***

"Are you going into data communication withdrawal?" Oksana snarls several minutes later. 

"No, I am not one of those people that are subjects of those documentaries about tech addiction." I struggle to keep the defensiveness from my tone. 

"No, you are somebody with a decimal addition." Oksana laughs at the witty judgement. 

I want to argue and continue the debate, but there is a strange truth in the observation. This whole exercise to monitor Oksana while she finds the runaways is pushing the limits of my comfort zone. I am much more familiar with being in the office or the lab environment. Niko wasn't wrong about my job being a demanding mistress, just the direction of mu inclinations. There is a certain soothing predictability to numbers that is hard to replicate anywhere else. 

"I think it is safe to assume that all regular actives are in limbo until we have a firm grasp on the escape artists. Although if you _want_ to give me a little stick of data to have fun with down here, I wouldn't say no. If only to avoid watching the same weather patterns on repeat." I try not to sound too hopeful. 

"Sorry I am fresh out of interesting factoids to share about my past, present or future. I'm only one girl, Dr .Eve." Oksana's theatrical American accent is a vaguely disturbing thing to witness. 

"So what do you normally when events like this flare-up? Do you want to crash out and catch up a nap in case we work through the rest of the night and some odd hours?" I ask, gesturing towards the bunks in the corner. 

"And miss this opportunity to grill you when you have nowhere to go and no timetable to pretend to keep, don't be silly, Eve. We should braid each other's nails and talk about the boys we like..." Oksana suddenly sounds disturbingly young. 

"You haven't liked a boy in over a decade, and I haven't done a sleepover in 30 years. We are both loners in that why, I'm afraid." I point out logically. 

"Where is your sense of drama and theatre, Eve. We should spend time constructing theories about the people we are hunting and their ambitions. There is little else to do, I know you think I'm the magical unicorn who has a strange mild meld power." Oksana says firmly, gesturing for me to sit. 

"I still think sleep is a better use of your time than trying to find witty ways to antagonise me, but it's your brainpower to waste." I agree while putting her book away. 

Neither women say that Oksana Astankova lacks a particularly effective sleep cycle and her body operates at all hours of the day. This quirk is a relatively minor anomaly in a long line of them. If they are going to hunt the cohort and either bring them into line or find some reliable intel, Oksana will need to be in top form. Having stamina is not the same as being genuinely well. One of my biggest challenge is prioritising keeping her charge well while pushing limits at every turn. 

***

"Don't expect a grand revelation about my childhood or my abiding love for my pet rabbit Daisy. It's not that kind of movie cliche."

I want to point out that it was foolish to expect anything from her since their first meeting. I focus on assessing the resources that are in this chamber. Fortunately, the room is exclusive enough that I don’t need to explain or apologise for Oksana. My charge takes delight in scaring other people and announcing her unique status. It wouldn't be a good combination with the anxiety around the weather events and potentially dangerous. They may not have sole access forever (even wealth has its limits in this new climate). However, I extent to mediate. 

"We can remain silent for the entire time if you wish, but I'm not the one with the non-existent boredom threshold. There are only so many times you can pace up and down the length of this room. There will be no broadcasting beyond the essential news." I predict calmly while bringing out a note pad. 

"We continue our Organic Chemistry Confessions from the rooftop? How is your divorce from the boring teacher going, who wants you to play dutiful wife?" Oksana clarifies as if I am likely to have more than one ex-spouse. 

"Predictably mainstream. There a few assets to split and we do not share enough professional circles for things to difficult. The majority of our social circle are Niko's friends, but it is a rank and file separation." I say with a casual shrug. 

"Aside from his latent biphobia and belief that you would have time to have an affair with an engineer. He genuinely doesn't know your schedule if he thinks you were doing anything but sleeping in that space. At the same time, you are trying to solve the mystery of your favourite lab rat. I take up all your brain power." Oksana concludes, somewhat boastfully. 

"Something like that." I agree before turning her attention to her writing. 

***

"Why didn't you run like the Russian and Polish cohorts, if you are so scornful of both Enhanced Genetics and their rebellion efforts?" 

I cannot help but ask the question once we settle into a routine and ensure we have enough supplies for the next hours. There are monitors at the top of the room, outlining the weather situations and the dangers. Space will open when everything is within safe parameters. Eve knows that Oksana could try and overwrite the protocols. However, she seems fine sitting at the table and trading barbs with Eve between bites of food. 

"Have you seen the state of the world? Why would I leave a cushy job that involves the most basic routines?" Oksana points out with a shrug. 

"As our fugitives have ably demonstrated, there are other ways to make a living without being stuck to such rigid routines. The life as an anomaly that they take out for special occasions doesn't seem like something you would be okay with after so many years." I try to keep genuine curiosity at bay. 

"Is this a Psych Op? Did you fact this entire weather event, to get me here to test my loyalty to the overlords? Rumour has it they did this in the early days. None of them were _you_ though." Oksana sounds far too gleeful and excited about the prospect. 

"Yes, a lowly numbers geek was able to summon inclement weather on a mass scale just to interrogate via bunker. Hate to burst your ego trip, but you aren't important enough to waste so many satellite credits." I quip back, giving my charge disapproving look. 

"Oh how disappointing, I was looking forward to you getting all academic with power on me. None of your predecessors approaches the job in quite the same way you have so far, Eve." There is something speculative in her tone. 

"We can work out my compensation and certificate later, Miss Astankova." I attempt a serious tone but fails spectacularly. 

"What kind of reward could be attractive to you? It isn't pretty clothing or black market money. I have no doubt you donate a significant portion of your new cushy salary towards the generic save the children fund or that new pod of dolphins that has everyone in raptures?” Oksana guesses with a knowingly look. 

"I am going to regret asking this, but what is wrong with the way I dress? Bearing in mind, I am not on a first-name basis with every high-end shop owner in town." Eve gestures in question. 

"Nothing if you are going for the stock image version of a modern office woman of a 'certain age,’ you don't show off your assets to an almost criminal degree." Oksana instructs sounding for all the world like an instructing giving a lesson. 

"Coming from somebody whose hidden crimes are most likely fairly extensive, I won't take that too much to heart. The state of my recessive gene Asian hair mostly doesn't keep you up at night, Oksana." I dismiss that line of questioning. 

"I bet it would surprise you what manages to keep me up at night, the one thing you won't find in a data set." Oksana disagrees cryptically. 

***

"What would you do if I was to agree with you? That all this testing of your anomaly status, won't do them any good within the overall data set?"

"Oh, Dr. Eve, are you planning on being a superhero, brandishing a calculator and a spreadsheet? Do I look so pathetic and harmless with my doe eyes and pale skin." Oksana drawls the comment out mockingly. 

"You are about as harmless as a scorpion in a fable." I disagree as she hands over another glass of water. 

True to her world, Oksana Astankova does not yield to trope or romantic convention. Their conversation remains firmly in the realm of banter and insults. Trying to make sense of this woman is like starting at an optical illusion without knowing the key or secret. The more I try to understand or unravel the data, the less I truly understand. Carolyn and the others seem happy with her weekly reports, but that doesn't mean it sits any easier with her moral compass. 

"I'll disappoint you if you free me from the cage." Oksana says without a trace self-consciousness. 

"Did I imply that you needed to do anything to earn this favour or I was making any action conditional?" I ask crossly, shrugging my shoulders stiffly. 

"No, you are going to start all idealistic. In the end, everyone will want me to be like the Last Son of Krypton or something and start using my powers for good. I may not agree with the Rasputin wannabe's actions, but that doesn't mean I will be a shiny ambassador to freedom or something. Liberty didn't end so well for Frankenstein's Monster, did it?" Oksana confides in a stage whisper.

"I swear to God, as soon as we get back home I am going to go to the nearest bookstore and by you that novel in six different languages and explain exactly why the reference is such bullshit. You are not the product of backstreet science or anything close to the sort." I fume and glower. 

"Yet, every time your lecture about the notion, it somehow becomes less convincing, is that the Dante's version of hell for data lovers like you?" Oksana is openly laughing now.

I refuse to rise to the literary bait. In truth, poetry or literature weren't high on her lists of interests or skill. Of all the weird and outlandish things Oksana says, I can't articulate why her constant references to that book are the comments that irritates me so much. It's a combination of the mental imagery and the ending. If Mary Shelley's predictions are halfway true, I am not spending my life working for the greater good but its exact opposite. 

"Finish this last rounds of testing, evaluations and assignments, and I will argue before the tribunal for your reclassification beyond anomaly. They are fundamentally misreading the science." I declare with sudden decisiveness that resembles Oksana in a strange way.

"Oooh nobody in our respective lives is going to like that, job security and all?" Oksana questions her eyes bright with interest. 

"I'll negotiate with Carolyn and gain enough status to make the next few decades comfortable. As you point out, I do little with the funds to warrant excessive spending. I am not fattening my bank account with your freedom" I reply keeping the tension from my voice.

"Idealistic idiot, but I'll be your errand boy to hell." 


	8. Tripwire Test

_"For, after all, you do grow up, you do outgrow your ideals, which turn to dust and ashes, which are shattered into fragments; and if you have no other life, you just have to build one up out of these fragments. And all the time your soul is craving and longing for something else._

_And in vain does the dreamer rummage about in his old dreams, raking them over as though they were a heap of cinders, looking in these cinders for some spark, however tiny, to fan it into a flame so as to warm his chilled blood by it and revive in it all that he held so dear before, all that touched his heart, that made his blood course through his veins, that drew tears from his eyes, and that so splendidly deceived him."_ Fyodor Dostoevsky, White Nights and Other Stories.

"Rebellion is going to be far worse for you than it is for me. I don't think your rule-loving heart could take the strain."

From anybody else, the words would be a clumsy insult with poor delivery. You learn from spending _any_ time with Oksana because there is a scale to her wit. If she truly wishes to insult, there would be no room for interpretation. Carolyn Martens has a plan for my supervision. Still, one of the fringe benefits is becoming fluent in this woman's unspoken language, what she says between the barbs and observations about human nature. Plenty of debate exists about where the Enhanced Humans will land in history. To my mind this a reductionist way of thinking, historical records happen regardless of such efforts. 

"Many years ago a famous politician said, it is worth getting into good trouble for the right reasons. There are principles at play here." I argue, knowing that Oksana will scoff. 

"Well, you and the mysterious 'politician' are idiots, there are only two types of trouble, the kind you cause and the one you manage to work to an advantage." Oksana disagrees with an eye roll. 

"Hold still; I want to get this done before we leave." I grip her shoulder a little harder. 

I am in the middle of carefully applying the healing balms and creams to her sore and irritated skin. For once this is more of a quirk of the weather than her physiology. After storms, the air is usually thick of dust of some kind, even this far north. We will be wearing full masks and a mixture of low and high tech gear. Again the class system is rearing its ugly head, but I am grateful to keep Oksana from hurting herself too much. There is no need for her to have quite so many scars, careless disregard by my predecessors. I have no particular talent in the healing field, but it is obvious that too many people let her get away with being reckless. 

"You are acting like I might lose a limb, it’s a minor skin rash. My back looks worse after particularly vigorous night with the Sampson twins or with Carolyn is bringing out her sadist streak." Oksana says, but she is not able to hide a reflexive flinch. 

"Because you can endure pain doesn't mean that I shouldn't try and prevent it where possible. The job may be to liaise with the rogues, but you need to be in one piece at the end of it." I keep my attention on her back. 

"Oh I forgot, you are the only one who has the proprietary right to pick me apart, piece by piece. No need to mark your territory. I'm sure there is an expiring barcode on somewhere."

There is too much truth in that statement for me to come up with an easy retort. Instead, I focus on what I can control, mainly the sore points on the skin in front of me. Even people with impressive limits can feel the effects of such exposure. It is almost impossible to prepare for every weather event and the speed of such things materialising. Some of these injuries aren't from our recent exposure (thanks to decent clothing). Each mark is a roadmap to Oksana's recklessness; our time together doesn't prevent such impulses. 

"You are not expiring or anything of the sort, but neither is your physiology unimportant, stop putting your body through such a pounding for no good reason. These cuts could easily get infected when we so far out here. That storm was a preview to worse possibilities. I don't have qualifications beyond basic first aid." I lecture, while placing the bandage.

"Here I was detecting the edge of a pain kink, Dr. Eve." Oksana teases, obligingly shifting to give me better access. 

"Such clumsy innuendo would be more effective if I don't know both your preference in sexual partners or multiple liaisons and precisely how many infections your immune system has fought off." I reply without rising to the challenge. 

Still, I can feel Oksana's satisfaction with the interaction, even if she doesn't bother to say anything else to contradict my assessment. 

***

"Are you and Carolyn secretly planning to take over the world and need me on the side to do it?

"Believe me, when Carolyn attempts to take over the world, I will not be on her list for henchmen. I'm sure she has a file several inches thick." I quip as we move to the taxi stand. 

This town is the last place on our list before hitting the smaller cities, with less easy transport. Oksana follows a trail that only she can see, and it's a little disconcerting to be out of the loop. My expertise stopped being relevant when we left headquarters. Oksana is joking about me having withdrawals from numbers, but there is truth in it. I resent not having more direct knowledge of where we are going or what subtle information my charge is gathering. In a way, the power dynamic is entirely fair, considering she was at my mercy for many months. I write such observations in my diary, which is getting a more complicated cypher by the day. 

"On that note, are you going to throw away all that pressure work and data, that you love so much? As if it is nothing. I know how much you worship those databases." Oksana challenges firmly 

"Not gathering the information for a specific purpose and not using it at all or entirely different things, Oksana. Besides, scientists follow an ethical code. Following along this path will soon become incompatible with that. If it helps resolve your world view, think about it as me wanting to sleep at night, no noble gesture." I try to pull my scattering thoughts together to satisfy her. 

***

"Are you in line for a big science prize related to being a shining example of ethics?"

"If I have any aspirations for academic superstardom, this career path is not an ideal start. Besides, I am the definition of an average data geek; few will remember my work in five or ten years from now. The recognition for Enhanced Genetics will come with the eradication of systemic problems and weaknesses. There is already one Nobel Prize in the field, for finding safety within the first experiments. It's unlikely there will be another until the proof of the wider societal concept." I explain patiently. 

"Is that your boring teacher way of telling me The Astankova Anomaly is not going to put your name in shiny lights?" Oksana seems like she is borderline pouting now. 

I don't have the words to either soothe her ego or justify my career path. Nico and his work friends were far from alone in their assumptions about the 'monsters.’ Ordinary people struggle with the notion of changing humanity from its natural cycles of genetic variation. The scientific community recognises the necessity, but that does not mean that we receive a warm reception. One of the reasons that Carolyn is so eager to put out any fires is the linger suspicion that the project failures are in a secret bunker somewhere. I think they are displaying circular logic but is not my place. 

"It's my way of saying, for the tenth time, that there is no secret plan to me wanting to release from the new contract. You are many things, but this job will not lead me to professional immortality. Are you going to be asking me these types of questions for the entirety of the trip?" I try to keep the whine from my voice. 

"You have far better survival instincts than your fashion, rank, and personnel file suggests. There is no way your motives are entirely pure." Oksana gestures at my coat for good measure. 

It didn't take me long to reconcile that Oksana is 'benevolently' stalking me to an almost equal level to my frantic pace of learning her physiology. How my extremely average life can be of interest to her is still a mystery that I struggle to solve. The dynamic between us seems to be as much of a mystery to her as it does to me, though she has more quips and gibs about the minor and major details. 

"Your snooping should reassure you that I confident enough to do this, without sacrificing all my political standing and wordily possessions. My survival instincts are intact and will serve me well in the next few months. Carolyn at least will be open to a genuine debate." I insist without sparing her a glace. 

I'm quite sure that our little adventure is providing ampule fuel to her speculations about me. Of course, few people but Oksana would worry about or consider fashion in this environment. Staying warm and safe from dusk is the main thing. Even Oksana's mask is top rate. 

***

"Are you having a crisis of confidence after leaving the boring teacher? Is this some grand way to find redemption through work?”

"Oksana, I already pay a small fortune to see a therapist. You don't need to take the role in absentia." I glower at her. 

I keep my attention on the crosswalk ahead of us. Oksana is enjoying making a game out of searching for motives for my altruism. She feels fairly confident that we will catch up to our prey soon. In the meantime, I have the almost impossible task of keeping her from losing focus; it seems that focusing on me is the price I pay for that attention. Such a feat would be easier if I could have any definite answers for her. 

"It would make sense. You love numbers and data more than anybody in their right mind. The ability to give your subject freedom sounds like the plot of every feel good family animal movie. You can wander off into the sunset imagining me living a long and happy life in a 'natural environment.’ What would you soundtrack for us be?" Oksana is getting into the story now. 

"You talk more than Keiko or any of the other whales that found patronage and a form of freedom. You are not my ticket to a Disney ending. For one thing, I think your escape is going to be a lot more chaotic, and your captivity hasn't done anything to damage your grit and guts." I point out, giving her an arch look before looking out the window. 

"What is it with you and belabouring metaphors. You'll need to do some fairly impressive mental gymnastics to make me fit with a male orca who died decades ago." Oksana teases. 

"Surely your investigation uncovers that I am closet literature geek, complete with stacks of books and random quotes." I ask, knowing the truth of this assumption. 

"Is this the whole thing you are in the closet about, Dr Eve?" Oksana asks in that same sing-song voice. 

Her words are so obvious that I don't bother to reply. We aren't getting the pay checks to stay here and banter. Oksana tends to lose focus with little encouragement. The hunt for the cohort is a long one, and I don't want her to get lost, geographically or mentally. It's going to be hard enough to get Carolyn across the line, without a failing mission on the books. The publicity is already too intense for easy comfort. I don't have the advantage of designer physiology. 

***

"Did you find something truly frightening in the data? Do you want to keep the discovery for yourself? Are we going to make millions?" 

For some unknown reason, I cannot rely on Oksana's usual distractibility when it comes to this particular point. We are on the outskirts of the last remote location. My guide is supremely confident that our targets where there. Unfortunately, the tension of a potential find isn't enough to distract her from the questions about my life. We are walking the last few miles, as the conditions are both habitable and too rocky to easily except cars. Besides, we don't want to alert hostile focus to their presence. Emergency evacuations were off the cards. 

I feel the familiar twinge when Oksana refers to my work on her genetics and behaviour sequences. Though her motives are different, Oksana presents the same pressure as the Committee. She wants to know what is going on with her physiology and physical manifestations. I refuse to believe that our single meeting over noodles and banter had a magical effect. Oksana wants a 'keeper' that she can work with to get answers. We are using each other in that way. 

"Do you pay any attention at all when I talk? All your tests are strange, but still well within acceptable parameters. It's like they are trying to find reason in the pattern of snowflakes or grains of sand. The nature of anomaly, by its very nature, is that the features are not generalisable." I explain for maybe the tenth time. 

"Your lectures usually end up with scoldings about literature and my use of adjectives, so I tune you out after the first sentence or six. So nothing is terrifying or ghoulish about me, how disappointing. I owe Sebastian 100 pounds.” 

"Aside from your use of grammar and world view, no. Why do you own one of the Swedish group such a sum?" I ask already dreading the answer. 

"He is annoyingly curious about medicine and our medical histories in particular; I'm an endless source of fascination for him. Sebastian was sure that nothing revolutionary is in my sequences. A strange thing to bet on but ordinary wages become mundane after a while. You should be pleased I didn't even try to come to you for insider trading tips." Oksana says almost triumphantly 

"I'll get right on that. Not having surprises in your genetics is a good thing, Oksana, losing immoral bets aside. It makes it more likely we can solve your medical issues without radical intervention. Let me finish that work before we get into 'good trouble.'" I ask, almost pleadingly. 

Oksana waves me off, in her way, that is an answer enough. My charge is too prideful to admit it, but the changes we make to her treatments and diets are working. Her metabolism is no longer spiking and crashing while desperately craving high calories and sugar. There is no magic in it, merely combining nutritional science and adjustments for strange baselines that don't match any charge. The one thing I am proud of with this whole situation is helping Oksana find a small balance. 

***

"Oh Shit. We are about to enter the liar of the idiotic idealists, prepare for impact." Oksana sounds uncharacteristically serious even when deploying sarcasm. 

Somehow I know that we are in trouble from that fact Oksana is suddenly unnaturally still and rigid. By now, I am familiar with her endless speculation and chatter about my motives for 'freeing.' her. The worst thing possible in Oksana Astanvoka's world view is the threat of boredom. She constantly stops to increasingly small towns during our journey, looking for food or drink to try. Thankfully she doesn't blow our cover at any point, but it is a close call on a few occasions. My Russian language skills are rudimentary at best, but it is not difficult to read the room. It's the same feeling now when Oksana stops talking and becomes watchful. 

It's impossible in practice to have truly remote regions anymore or at least ones that are habitable. Mapping every inch of the globe couldn't be a theoretical exercise when there is so much emphasis on conservation and monitoring the weather. However, this village is about as far off the grid as possible to be, complete with low tech housing and vast forests. I doubt that traditional communication grids are viable this far out. 

"What's wrong and why are you cursing in Russian? You loath your native language." I start at her with growing apprehension. 

By the time I ask the question, an answer is redundant. A group of men materialise and surround us in a loose circle. Enhanced Humans don't have distinctive features or characteristics, but it is easy to tell that there are too many of them for Oksana to fight. This town is the last on our list so it will be difficult to get help. I am not a survivalist or strategist, and even I can see then we are facing steep odds for getting out of here. I am fighting both panic and instinctive intrigue. 

"We are in the lair of fringe idiots with the misguided beliefs that Enhanced Humans need special status or more strawberries or something. Our group were smart enough to disguise their tracks, surprising cleverness?" Oksana adds the last bit with mocking sarcasm. 

"Let's lower the commentary, shall we?" I plead cautiously, looking around. 

"Don't bother trying to escape or do any _X-Men_ shit, Oksana. We have checkpoints everywhere for three miles in every direction. Besides we have observed you enough to know that you won't leave your jailer behind, even you wanted to swim in open waters." The leader's English was poor, but his body language was clear. 

"You have been spying on us the whole time? The signs were a ruse, what arseholes." Oksana sounds as if she is talking about a minor inconvenience and not a potential hostage situation. 

"It's clear you didn't score high on the logic problem tests or the survival training. You were pathetically easy to follow, too busy swooning over this one." The leader gestures at me, insulting, having opinions about employees of Enhanced Genetics. 

"Well it's not like your scores set the world on fire, there is a reason you couldn't go further into the forest." Oksana taunts her, back painfully straight. 

I know that these men, so far all our potential captors are male, a minor demographic detail that the analyst in me files away, are trying to beat Oksana at her favourite game. They have us at a general disadvantage by being more numerous and better organised than intel hypothesised. To call this movement a rebellion is to understate the matter dangerously. We, or more likely Oksana, is here for a specific purpose and the team is going to some length to increase her vulnerability. Carolyn's insight that there was a connection between us is benign in comparison to this little exchange. 

"Be quiet. We did not go through all this effort to stand here trading insults and barbs about tests scores. You are our hostages for an important negotiation, but the degree to whether this is an unpleasant experience depends entirely on your cooperation. Since you were nice enough to bring along a living breathing Achilles' heel," was the reply. 

For a second, I think Oksana is going to challenge them and the insult to her pride. Instead, she glances at me and silently gestures to follow them. She knows more about this situation than she is letting on, including the potential power dynamics at play. I feel a strange sense of violation than these people were spying on us for who knows how long, not that there is any complaints department to lodge grievances. The adamant assertion that I am a vehicle to get to Oksana makes me feel sicker than the previous town's fatty salami. Again, I cannot make sense of such comments, not without quizzing the woman in question, and she is painfully silent. 

Neither of us, the numbers geek and the 'faulty anomaly' are ideal people stuck with zealots on massive Russian forests' fringes. However, if I would be on anybody surviving the challenge, it would be Oksana. She is not willing to flee or fight and leave on her own. For better or worse, we are the team that Carolyn Martens was so proud of creating. Where such a reality leaves us in the future remains to be seen. However, the tenuous connection is strangely comforting in this uncertain domain. 

Maybe this was the hell that Oksana was joking about, though I wasn't aware that foresight was amongst her talents. 


	9. Tripwire Test II

"What to do if you find yourself stuck in a crack in the ground underneath a giant boulder you can't move, with no hope of rescue. Consider how lucky you are that life has been good to you so far. Alternatively, if life hasn't been good to you so far, which given your current circumstances seems more likely, consider how lucky you are that it won't be troubling you much longer." Douglas Adams - Original Radio Plays

Oksana Astankova makes the most terrible hostage. 

Of course, the fact is about as obvious as the sun rising and the stars in the sky. Still, I did have a vain hope that common sense would defeat worse impulses. Confirming my worst fears, our new jailors are organised, united, dedicated and numerous. They chose this spot to deceive us into thinking that few people would try and eek a living out this far, and away from the main shelter network. The Leader is yet to grace us with anything useful like a name or affiliation. He is not one of the escapees we were originally after. 

"You will stay here until we summon you. There is everything you will need but nothing that can become a weapon." The Leader commands in a dispassionate voice. 

_"Is your name so powerful that we dare not speak it, for fear of summoning mystical powers, Great One?_ " Oksana switches to Russian purely to torment him and prove a point. 

_"It's better to have no name than one that is synonymous with failure and degeneration. Play all the games you want, all the insults. Remember it’s not your life that you dangle in front of us as bait."_ The Leader is calm. 

I keep my face neutral and not revealing that I am of the topic in discussion. This group likely knows that both captors have a basic understanding of Russian, but there is no need to confirm the point for them by overacting. Oksana needs to stop poking at whatever psychological wounds like this revolutionary cause of action. She is brilliant, bold and tough, but she is far from invincible. There are still so many ways for this situation to get worse and more deeply. Oksana isn't displaying her willingness to fight with every micro expression.

It's a sign of how far we have come that it is a relief when they slam the heavy door in our face. The room is bare except for two army cots and tamper-proof chairs and desks. The old-style television screen is an unusual touch but is most likely for their benefit when messaging us. Every structure (even hostage bunkers) need a warning system about inclement weather systems. It's heartening to know that we haven't reached the torture and deprivation part of the plan—a small stack of army food supplies sits on each bed. I automatically start to calculate rationing by caloric intake. 

****

I know that we are in real and present danger, to quote an old movie and older laws. Any minute now this little reprieve in our cell will be over. The Leader, who Oksana insists on calling Sven, is building an invisible case against them or the people they report to, there is the heavy weight of panic in every moment. Of course, it doesn't help that Oksana seems immune to such threats and fears. If I didn't know her body language, I would say she was completely calm, without a care in the world. 

"Now tell me everything you know about their motives, means and mechanisms? What do you know about these people that gives you enough confidence to goad them like a sibling?

Thankfully Oksana _doesn't_ take the opportunity to make a crack about all 'test tube freaks' being members of the same family tree. She is pacing our new space's confines, a repetitive task when you have long legs and a lithe build. It won't surprise me if our captors choose the confines most likely to annoy one of their own. Almost all Enhanced Humans struggle to cope without a steady stream of activity, even if the action is a meditation or something equally low key. The underlying principle is the need for a point of focus. We are in an empty room with little to contend with but our thoughts and each other. 

"There were always rumours about cohorts or individuals that wanted off the grid or the constant grind of testing. Classic creation turning against the creator, your literature-loving heart would approve. Most of us didn't pay any attention to the chatter; nothing ever comes of it. There is a reason your Carolyn lost her mind over a single Russian 'cohort.' They have the same possible pieces the security feeds." Oksana sounds almost bored but admiring at the same time. 

"This is more than a few angry people, there is a full infrastructure out there, basic but functional. They wouldn't dare spy on us unless they were fairly confident in their skills, Carolyn pays people a lot of many to prevent that from happening." I gesture for her to continue with an impatient hand. 

"The problem with trying to make humans stronger, better and more resistant to all that troubles the world, is that nobody can account for the ego that comes along with that status. Sven and his idiots believe that creating a 'New World Order' has a better pay off than following the rules. Even if it is only 10% to 15% of the total population, that's still a few minions for the idealistic morons." Oksana points practically. 

"So they are looking for attention, political representation and sympathies from the masses? Not unlike the different religious communities?" I gain an insight, struggling to put the pieces together.

"We are going to find out when he deems to speak to us again. Sven has enough pride in this little venture that he won't shut up for long, even if it won't be any useless intel, like the Bond villains. He hates me and everything I represent enough to at least scream at us a few more times, my accent is slowly snapping his will to live." Oksana sounds characteristically proud about that fact. 

I sit back and let Oksana start sorting through the food they left us. I take the little scraps of information we have so far and start putting it together. We are assets within a system that these people find deeply objectionable. They want to use us for leverage in negotiations, which likely means our captures have specific interests in the British operation. Neither Oksana nor I have much recognition or notoriety in other parts of the world. They knew our general plan, which either spoke to a spy or dangerous breach in security. 

***

"How do we fit into their grand plan?" 

"Calling this situation a plan would be vastly overstating their intelligence, something I am loathed to do." Oksana replies drily. 

Oksana may be in denial, but it is obvious that we are not, and never dealt with more than a few rank amateurs with creation issues. I am grateful for my simple wristwatch for it gives me a measure of the time that passes in this dark room. There wouldn't be typical indicators such as the sun's movement or temperature change if those were reliable anymore. We will be in this room for a long time if the amount of supplies is a gage. The best way to keep Oksana from going stir crazy and making this situation even more difficult is to keep her talking. Underneath the characteristic bravado, I need to understand if we work together to improve our current circumstances. 

"What do they need us to accomplish? I can't quite see you making a prophesied leader for a nation of misfits unhappy with the status quo. Nor would it be difficult to separate us at any one of the checkpoints." I persist with the questioning. 

"You have more value than you seem to believe, Dr. Eve. Few readily public intellectuals know more about the inner workings of the operation than you. It's entirely possible that you were the main prize and I was the bonus scramble of freak genetics. You're going to have to more than 60 minutes to get reliable intel, I'm good, but the genetic tinkers gave me telepathic abilities." Oksana gives a dismissive wave. 

"That's disconcerting as a notion. Can we leave the conjecture and get back everything you know about this loosely defined group and their desires?" I shift the topic to safer grounds on instinct. 

"You say that as if I pay any attention to the comings and goings of anyone else. My life as an anomaly has few fringe benefits but avoiding socialising and chronic boredom is one of them. I'll tell you everything I know, sorry for the lack of memory sticks and databases." Oksana shrugs her shoulders in apparent surrender. 

I sit in the chair opposite Oksana and wait for her to continue, my hands itch for the presence of a pen or keyboard, but memory is a valuable skillset. Oksana Astankova and I make a habit of exchanging large data volumes. There isn't that much difference between this experience and their hideaways on the roof. 

"What could they want or gain from spying on us this far out? I'm not receiving any dispatches or security-related material nor would I on a mission like this, it wouldn't take long to figure that out." I am frustrated by the lack of clarity. 

"Couldn't it be they long for a witty banter and interplay about long-dead British writers and the actual state of my autonomic nervous system? 

***

_"How is your Korean fluency?" Oksana asks suddenly in that language._

_"Horrifyingly bad according to most of my relatives but passable for a nomadic ex-pat with multiple passports, why?" I reply in the same language._

" _There are no surveillance materials in the room; there isn't even the basic ability to install any, possible because they don't want us to have the ability to build or tamper with the tools. That doesn't mean that Sven and his merry men won't change their minds. Language acquisition is only a valuable skillset for a select few cohorts. This lot will not know a tongue that doesn't have European roots_." 

Oksana explains, and it strikes me that she is doing something with a pen and scraps of paper from their food. The lettering takes a while to decipher, but it takes me a moment to recognise my parents' native language letters. Her second or third language handwriting skills aren't the best, but the words are legible. It will take me a while to get familiar with the strokes again. 

"Don't we need something approaching a plan to make secret communications worthwhile?" I hiss, sounding disturbingly similar to my grandmother. 

_"I almost find it insulting that you don't automatically assume that I have a plan for everything, it's you who is always writing devious on those monthly reports you pretend I don't hack."_

" _Deviousness comes as naturally as breathing. You try to con extra noodle bowls from Sammy's and sensitive data with equal measure. I will need more information if we are going to recreate one of the great survival movies." I point out with hostile glare in her direction._

_"Give me time, and you will have all the specifics you need. There is no way we can wait for rescue; they are probably too busy haggling over the paper. Practice your Korean characters if you want to do something useful." Oksana waves me off._

My parents insist on me learning the old ways but numbers were my safe place for so many years. I steal the pen from Oksana and mimic her notetaking. My cellmate isn't transcribing anything, particularly proving that this is a viable way to communicate. More importantly, they can destroy the evidence with a flick of her wrist. To prove the point, Oksana eliminates the first scraps. We switch to English as not to arouse suspicion or the frantic search for a translator. At least we have a backup language. 

***

"Find ways to move and eat everything you can. Sven and his band of useless idiots plan to keep us here long term; it's important to not to lose conditioning when we escape." Oksana instructs, her tone oddly serious. 

"Says the woman with the superhuman metabolism and little need to train your body. Are you going to be my hostage coach, now?" I growl in some resentment. 

"I know that you let your gym membership lapse, but surely you remember the basic toning routine, do sit ups, crunches and push ups for condition and spot jogging." Oksana commands, taking on the role of trainer indeed.

"Are you planning for us to walk all the way back to England, not just the nearest town?" I ask with frank surprise and mentally revising my time table. 

"I am working on the assumptions that all their words are not simply boasting. They may have traps and trips within a decent radius; we may be taking a long way home. Where you will need to move more than a data scientist is comfortable with, much more." Oksana says ominously. 

"Wouldn't it make more sense for me to hide somewhere and you to run, literally if the case may be, for help?" I ask voicing the most logical option. 

"No absolutely not, for one thing, I don't trust your survival skills to stay alive in the middle of the Russian wilderness. You might feel sympathetic to the wolves or something. Second, there will be scouts doing regular sweeps. It's safer for us to stay together." Oksana is uncharacteristically stern. 

It's disturbing how much consideration Oksana gives to the notion of being a 'successful' prisoner. She seems to have an unerring need to survive for somebody from an 'upper-class' version of society. I know better than anyone that Oksana doesn't struggle for food or clothing. I feel a surge of hope flicker somewhere deep; maybe we can get out of this without Carolyn sending in the rescue cavalry. It's unlikely that anyone will miss us for at least the next few days. If I need to survive with anyone, it seems like Oksana Astankova is a safe bet. 

***

"Oh, that's clever, our idiot captors know something useful after all." Oksana sounds almost proud of the notion. 

"That is not at all reassuring, do you care to clarify, Ms. Astankova?" 

"Sven, The Idiot Great, is hacking our phones and devices. He is creating an intricate digital trail of where we are going and why. There is the perfect amount of intel drops and good detail to delay panic. Nobody will be looking for us, at least for the next ten days." Oksana is watching the screen with genuine fascination. 

I blink and turn towards the screen in question, watching when our devices starting scrolling over without any external mechanism. I am thankful that my diary isn't portable or on the network. The code won't be of interest to anybody, but I don't want anything else on display. It seems like they only spy on us when Oksana is in the room. My actions were independent and without spy software. That doesn't mean I won't running full decontamination whenever we get out of here. 

"What the hell does that mean? How convincing is this trail of theirs?" 

***

"Why don't you leave me behind? You are prideful enough to want to contradict them on principle. Why not prove you can survive in the wilderness alone?" I am genuinely curious. 

"Come now, Dr. Eve. Such a question presents the most basic cypher imaginable. It would be an insult to your love of puzzles to answering that question directly." Oksana teases from the other side of the room. 

My cellmate seems to take delight in acting out hostage movie cliche she can think of, by examining every centromere of our small non-descript room, including all the low tech devices that cannot connect to the internet or other networks. Unfortunately, we aren't in a fancy escape room, that was trendy for a while. Oksana doesn't find anything useful in her pacing. 

"Now, it's time to be playing word games with me. We have to work together if we want to stay on top of the external dangers. I have a right to know why they are dangling me like a human shield against you? What did they see in spying?" I insist, while moving closer to her and violating her personal space. 

"Nothing worth repeating here. Why can't you be grateful that I am acting as your bodyguard and not leaving you here to languish? There are plenty of ordinary humans that could be following me around gratefully, not questioning every move.” 

"Because you are not secretive without reason. Something is going on; please tell me Oksana before we plan the grand escape."

For once, Oksana Astankova is taking the sensible option, perhaps for the first time in her adult life. There could be consequences in poking this particular psychological hornet's nest. Oksana may share excessive details with me about certain things, but she remains fiercely private about certain others, including this strange dance. At the same time, there is something fundamental I am missing that could play a role in our survival either here or when we get to the lesser danger of the evaluations. Any secrets about me could limit my effectiveness in getting us back to safety or at least with minimal damage.

_"What are morality plays at the end of most K-dramas? Why does everybody to such powerful and illogical extremes? The answer is simple Dr. Eve."_ Oksana switches to Korean before neatly stepping away from me.

I loathe K-Dramas with a passion, especially the more romantic or relationship-focused ones. Oksana knows this well enough, as does anybody foolish enough to bring up the topic with me. It is still one of the more enduring exports out of South Korea, but I have never seen the appeal. I suppose there will always be a market for escapism, especially when so many elements are uncertain. More importantly, Oksana gives me the first clue to her thinking. 


End file.
